


Parentheses

by delialicious



Category: Actor RPF, Broadway RPF, Glee RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Fluff, Harlequin, M/M, Road Trips, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 55,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delialicious/pseuds/delialicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding his fiancee getting frisky with the best man on the night before their wedding, Zach skips town to get his life together. Enter Jon, who sweeps Zach off his feet and across the country.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"The bartender kinda looks like Ryan Reynolds from this angle. I think you could take him home."

Zach scrunched his face and propped himself over the bar, giving the bartender a long look. Quirking an eyebrow, he looked back at his brother and said, "Since when is drunk an angle?"

The bar wasn't terribly busy, considering it was Thirsty Thursday. Most of the students had just cleared out of town post-graduation, and the townies weren't nearly as rowdy. Well. The townies that weren't Joe weren't nearly as rowdy.

"Your presence is inspiring, Joe. It really is. But I'm not going to get wasted and go home with the bartender."

"Come ooon," Joe wheedled. He slumped against the bar and gave a critical eye to the patrons around them. Nodding towards a newcomer, he said, "What about that one?"

"Your taste in men for me is questionable, so I'm a little afraid to--" Zach followed his line of sight to the door. "Oh, my god. I _know_ him."

"Is that a dealbreaker?"

"No, the fact that he's barely out of college is the dealbreaker."

Joe's smirk only widened. "How is that a dealbreaker? Young, not looking to get tied down--"

Zach ignored the rest of the justifications streaming out of his brother's mouth and set his drink on the counter behind himself, walking in the direction of the young blondish guy wading through the bar. "Jonathan, hey!"

The guy's face lit up. "Oh, wow! Zach! Hi! I wasn't... really expecting to see anyone I knew here," he laughed sheepishly.

"Come have a drink!" Zach said, nodding his head toward the end of the bar not occupied by Joe.

Visibly flustered, he stammered, "Okay, yeah. Sure!"

They situated themselves back at the bar, and Joe gave them a lecherous leer before heading towards them. "I think you could hit it," he said matter-of-factly after he gave Jonathan an appraising eye.

Zach choked on his drink. "Jesus, Joe. You really need to stop trying to set me up with everyone in the bar."

"So. Jonathan, is it?"

"Just Jon," he said as he smiled at the bartender setting a bottle on a coaster for him.

"How do you two know each other?" Joe asked, managing to flag down another drink of his own while keeping near-creepy eye contact with Jon.

"Starbucks," Zach said. Looking back at Jon, he blocked Joe's line of sight. "You graduated, though, right? I figured that's why I haven't seen you there lately?"

"Yeah!" Jon beamed. "I've been an assistant teacher at Tate for about a year, while I finished school. I graduated last week, so, y'know, I just have to wait the summer out to start teaching for real."

"Wow!" Joe's voice boomed around them. "A grown-up job! See, Zach? I can pick good ones for you."

"Well, I mean, I haven't started real teaching yet, and I'm only working at a theater camp this summer to try and pay off my loans. I'll probably end up subbing for another year or so, until something more permanent opens up," he gave a shy smile into his drink.

They chatted amiably for a few moments, trying in vain to ignore Joe's overbearing presence and insistence on hooking Zach up with every man in the bar.

"I just finished school, which means drinking my life away until I have a job, but what brings _you_ out on a Thursday?" Jon asked.

Joe squeezed between them to take a swig of Zach's drink, and wrapped him in a crushing bear-hug. "This guy's getting hitched in the morning!"

"Oh my gosh, really? That's awesome!"

"You should give him a last-night-of-freedom lap dance, Jonathan," Joe said, and Zach was afraid that he was completely serious.

"No!" he pulled away and rolled his eyes. "Don't... don't listen to him, Jon."

"Come on, little bro. Live a little. It can be a fully-clothed lap dance. Or not," he waggled his eyebrows in Jon's direction.

"I'm not that kind of girl," Jon said with a blush.

Zach coughed and pushed his empty glass away from Joe's enthusiastic hand gestures. "I think it's time for me to go."

"The night's just beginning!" Joe shouted a little too loud for the small bar.

"Yeah, but you're not the one who needs to get up at ass o'clock in the morning to set up for your _wedding_."

"Worst bachelor party _ever_." Joe turned to Jon. "He wouldn't even let me get a stripper."

"How would that have been for my benefit?"

"I would have found you a dude."

"Well, I guess that's something."

"Hey, hey, hey. Hey." Joe dropped his hands onto Zach's shoulders and looked him square in the eye, with the kind of sincerity only a drunk man could muster up. "I am just looking out for you, okay? Testing your devotion to your gentleman caller. You pass, you boring little shit. You are allowed to get married in the morning."

"Okay, I will see you in a few hours," Zach droned. He turned back to Jon and gave him a quick hug. "It's been good seeing you."

"Jonathan, my dear man," Joe slurred. "I know you only recently joined us, and I'm sure you were looking forward to a night of post-graduation debauchery and margaritas and Texts From Last Night worthy experiences, but can you please give our groom a ride home? I will buy you _all the drinks_ when you return."

Zach looked pointedly at his brother. "I'm not drunk, I can drive myself."

Joe waved him off. "With what car? I drove your ass here."

"Well I was planning on taking your car, since you're in no state to be driving anywhere."

"It's not a problem," Jon said. He set his empty glass on the bar. "I wasn't really up for a night of heavy drinking anyway."

"You don't need to drive me home," Zach insisted.

"No, really. It's no biggie. Buy me a coffee or something later."

"I'll do that. Thanks."

Zach made the rounds at the bar, hugging well-wishers and tipsy townies on his way to the exit. Joe tackled him into a hug when he walked past the bar. "See you bright and early, little bro," he huffed into Zach's neck.

Zach buried a smile into Joe's shoulder. "Thanks." Pulling away, he said sternly, "You are going to take a cab home."

Joe barked out a laugh and shoved at him. "Don't worry about me."

"I will _always_ worry about you," Zach said. "Seriously. No driving home."

"Noted," Joe saluted him. "Go home and get your beauty sleep. Make yourself pretty for your man tomorrow."

On their way to the parking lot, Zach felt around his jeans. He patted his pockets, reaching into each of them trying to find his keys. After a few minutes of failed searching, and only one quip from Jon about how skinny jeans were prone to losing things, he turned up a decent amount of lint, his dying cell phone, some stray parking quarters, a tube of chapstick -- and no keys.

Jon stopped opening the door to his blue hatchback sedan. "Are they still in the bar?"

"I think... I think I left my keys in the reception hall," Zach said, looking up. He brushed his hair out of his face and went over the day. "I spent, like, all afternoon there, getting everything ready. And then Joe drove me here, so... I think I left them in the lobby or something."

"I can drive you over."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to go out of your way."

"Don't worry about it," he replied with a smile. "Coffee, remember? I have a long drive tonight anyway, so I'll need it."

"And you have all the drinks waiting for you, according to Joe."

"Yeah," he said airily. "I think I'll pass on _all_ the drinks and take him up on _one_ drink later."

They eased out of the parking lot and pulled onto the road. The air was just cooling down enough to let the windows down, and Zach leaned heavily against the door, letting the breeze soothe him.

"So, are you excited?" Jon asked. "Big day and all?"

"Yeah," Zach laughed nervously, sitting up straight again. "I'm kind of terrified, though, y'know? Everything's leading up to this big Moment. What am I going to do after?"

"Uh, go on your honeymoon and have sex on every available mostly-flat surface for a week?"

Zach smiled and looked down at his hands.

"I mean, that's what I hear about what happens after weddings," Jon said with a dramatic shrug. "Being the blushing young virgin Mennonite I am, I, of course, have no knowledge of such happenings."

"Right," he snorted behind his palms.

After a spell of quiet driving, Jon said, "Seriously, though. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Zach said, sighing and looking over at him in the car. "I'm... I think I'm ready for it."

"You'd better be. This isn't really something you can take back. At least, not for a lot of money, anyways."

Turning through the narrow back-streets of the neighborhood, Zach led them to the back of the church near his house. Jon stopped the car in the driveway of the back door.

Feeling buzzed on the drinks everyone had bought him for his low-key bachelor party, and maybe just a little pre-wedding high, Zach swung open the door of the building, bouncing into the lobby. His eyes skirted over the benches and tables set up along the wall for the guest book and gifts. A few dozen globe vases lined one of the benches, full of dyed flowers and tiny LED lights; party favors to decorate the reception tables.

All his hard work was piled in the room, neatly organized so that preparation would go as smoothly as possible come morning. It was a relief to see it all laid out, waiting for him. And there -- there were his keys, sitting next to a stack of programs. He grinned and trundled over to the table, his fingers running along the cream cloth draped over it.

A crashing sound from the hall jolted him out of his surveying of the room. His heart sped up and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing as he stepped sideways to peer into the cafeteria. He heard familiar laughter from the food prep nook. Paranoia running into overdrive, Zach realized whose voices he'd heard. He opened his mouth to call out to his fiancee, but his voice died in his throat when he saw Andrew sauntering backwards, pulling at the lapels of his best friend's shirt. He watched in frozen shock as Andrew laid himself across the buffet table, yanking David down for a kiss.

It took a minute for what he was seeing to register before Zach jumped back, stumbling outside the doors again. Everything inside him seemed to shut down. His knees buckled, and he crumpled, sliding down the wall. Almost immediately, Jon was out of the car and dashing over to him.

"Is everything okay?"

Zach shook his head. He looked up at Jon in desperation and tried to say something, but no sounds could come out.

Confusion flitted over Jon's face, and his eyes danced between Zach and the door. "What's wrong?"

Zach didn't answer, focusing on taking deep, heaving gulps of breath, and Jon pulled open the door and stepped into the lobby of the banquet hall.

"You're kidding me," he heard Jon mutter before shoving back outside. Jon crouched in front of Zach's folded knees on the ground. His wide hands circled Zach's shoulders, thumbs pressing reassuringly, his face open with sympathy. "What can I do?" he asked, and Zach's keys were pressing sharply between his shoulder and Jon's palm.

"I can't--" Swallowing back tears, Zach turned away. "I think I'm going to throw up," he breathed, but he couldn't even move anymore.

They sat in heavy silence for a while before Jon pulled at his elbows. Softly, he said, "Come on, let's go. You're not going to feel any better sitting out here."

 

Jon drove them down the road to a Dairy Queen that was just about to close. Sitting on a messy bench outside, they tucked into bowls of soft-serve ice cream covered in sprinkles -- "Trust me, you need sprinkles," Jon said -- and fudge.

The sticky summer air was stifling now, and Zach's untouched ice cream was slowly melting in its cup. He didn't even bother picking up the spoon, fearing he really would throw up.

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Jon looked up and hesitantly murmured, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Zach just shook his head and sighed, watching the colors of the sprinkles in his ice cream bleed together into a rainbow mess. The only sounds around them for a while longer were the occasional scrapes of Jon's spoon against the cup.

"So... my friend Jody," Jon said eventually. "Is this art student. Well, I guess not anymore, since she graduated in the winter and moved out to San Diego. But she sold some stuff out there, y'know?"

He nodded, looking dazed into his mushy sundae.

"She has this exhibition in a couple of weeks," he continued with a stab of his spoon in the middle of his ice cream. "And she doesn't really trust the postal service to get stuff to her undamaged, if at all. And since I don't have anything to do until camp starts in a few weeks, I told her I could drive the stuff to her."

Zach hummed. He wanted to be a good listener, but right now, with his life falling apart around him, the last thing he cared about was Jon's friends having successful lives.

"Zach," Jon said as he planted his hands on the table. "I am going to eat your ice cream if you don't."

"Go for it," he replied, pushing the bowl across the table.

"No, don't--" Jon nudged it back with his spoon. "Eat your ice cream. You'll feel better, trust me."

His focus remained on the table.

"Seriously, Zach," Jon swiped his spoon into the bowl and brought it to Zach's face. "Ice cream! Yummy sugar! Full of happy feelings!"

Zach rolled his eyes and took the spoon, eating the ice cream with an exasperated See? I did it. look on his face.

"Good!" Jon chirped and gestured to the spoon on Zach's side of the table. "Now you try."

With a sigh, Zach started eating his half-melted ice cream as Jon pulverized his own sundae into a disgusting-looking pale brown mush. "You were trying to distract me before by talking about your friend Jody," Zach reminded him.

"Right! So I'm driving to California to bring her paintings, and I think you should come with me."

Zach simply stared at him.

"I think it's a good idea," he said around a mouthful of ice cream.

Shaking his head, Zach let out a bitter laugh. "I think it's an awful idea. Even though the wedding is off--" saying the words was like a punch in the gut. "I have so many responsibilities, so much shit to take care of. God I have even more I need to do now."

"Like what?"

"Like... explaining to all my family that flew in from out of town that they came all this way for an exotic vacation in a suburb of Pittsburgh? Like calling the caterer and the florist and the church, and canceling everything? And cleaning up all the bullshit decorations I spent all of this week putting together?"

"That doesn't have to be your responsibility."

He shook his head in desperation, starting to feel hysterical. "No. No it is. Everything is always my responsibility. I have to take care of fucking everything, and this is no exception."

"No, it is an exception, Zach. You don't really think people are going to leave all this for you to deal with, do you?"

"Who else is going to do it?" he asked frantically.

"Zach," Jon said patiently. "You have friends. You have friends, and more importantly, you have an amazing family who cares about you. They'll understand. They'll take care of it."

At the thought of family, Zach sucked in a breath, starting to feel truly nauseous. "Oh, my god," he hissed. "My mom. Fuck, what am I going to tell my mom?"

Jon came over to the other side of the picnic table and clasped Zach's hands. "It's going to be okay," he said, running his thumbs over Zach's palms.

"My mom," he whispered. Tears were falling freely down his face. "I don't know how I'm going to tell her. I think... I think that might be the worst part." He brushed his face against his shoulder, trying to wipe his cheek. "She was so happy, Jon. You don't even know."

"Hey," he said. "She's probably going to freak out with worry, but I don't think she's going to hold it against you."

Zach let out a shaky breath. "How am I going to tell her? What am I going to tell her?"

"Zach, calm down."

He shook his head. "Just... let me panic for, like, five minutes. Please?"

"Okay."

Zach closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears back, and cataloging all the things that would need to be done, and who else he could get to do them; all the people who needed to be called, the packing he should probably be doing right now. He breathed for a few minutes, letting the pressure of Jon's hands on his own calm him down. "Okay," he said, looking up.

Jon was giving him a sad half-smile. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't want to impose--"

"Whatever you need," he said.

"When... I mean, I -- were you serious, before?" Zach started awkwardly. "About going to California?"

He nodded. "I was planning on heading out Monday, but just say the word, and I will pack a bag and we can leave. Now, if you want."

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Zach, seriously. It's okay. I really think you should get out of here for a while, and let other people clean this up. You need a break."

"I need clothes and things from the condo, but yeah. You're right. I think leaving for a while would be... good."

"Okay," Jon squeezed his hands. "You want to head over to grab some stuff now?"

"Yeah, I have a feeling Andrew's not going to be around," he said, his voice cracking.

"Oh, sweetie," Jon let go of his hands and wrapped him in a hug. "I am so sorry."

"Thanks," he mumbled into Jon's shirt, trying to keep from blubbering on him too much.

"I know it feels like the end of the world right now, Zach, but you're going to get through this. I promise."

He sniffed and clutched harder.

"We can pack up some of your stuff, and you can stay at my parents' farm tonight," Jon suggested. "My mom can make us breakfast in the morning, and we can leave whenever you want."

"You... live with your parents," Zach said, pulling back. Of course, his brain supplied. He's barely out of college, he still has people he can depend on. So young, with his whole life ahead of him, and no lying fiancees keeping him from the one thing he'd fought so long to have. He looked at Jon sitting close enough to keep steady hands on Zach's arms, and felt so envious.

"I'm going to call my mom, okay?" Jon asked, his hands rubbing reassuringly up and down Zach's shoulders. "She won't have any problems putting you up for the night, and if you don't want your friends to take care of the wedding things, I know she can get her church friends together to help clean up, even if they're a little far out of town."

 

As soon as they walked into the condo, Zach made a beeline for the kitchen, plugging his phone into the charger and setting it on the counter next to the sink. He pulled a bottle of water from the pantry and looked around the house, taking in all the things he would inevitably have to divide as soon as he came back from California.

A list formed in his head. The books were the most important part; they were almost all Zach's, and he prized them all. He was tempted to pack them all now, but Jon's car probably couldn't fit all the boxes. He could forgo taking the furniture. Andrew picked most of it up at Ikea, so it wouldn't be a tragedy to lose it, and Zach was more than happy to live without the constant reminder of what went on between the couch cushions. He shivered at the memories of what he would be leaving behind. Yeah, he thought. The furniture could stay.

The kitchen wares were easily replaceable, but Zach felt oddly possessive of them. He opened up the cabinets by the fridge and surveyed his dish set. It wasn't fancy china, by any means, but the plates were so _classy_.

Opening the fridge, he saw the cake in its flimsy, clear case. They'd cleared out most of the shelves in preparation for the honeymoon, so the fridge was mostly empty, except for condiments and cooking wine in the door, a nearly empty half-gallon of milk, and the cake.

When he'd ordered it from Luxe, the cake had been the highlight of planning the wedding. He'd gone through so many tasting sessions to find the perfect cake, and the baker, a friend of his, had given him the best idea for decoration. On the surface, it was a plain, three-tiered cake covered in smooth white fondant, but Lorna had recommended they keep the cake blank and let the guests at the reception fill in decorations of their own with an array of frosting tubes. Zach took a deep, shuddering breath as he looked at the box of icing on the bottom shelf. His favorite part of the reception would never come to be.

Coming up behind him and placing his hands on Zach's shoulders, Jon said, "Let's put a bag together and hit the road. You can worry about the kitchen later."

"I don't even know what to pack. What are you bringing?"

"Comfy clothes, a toothbrush. I planned on getting some munchies on the way, maybe some tacky sunglasses. We don't really need anything fancy."

"I'm just not used to doing things without some kind of preparation. I need a plan, or a list."

"But this will be more fun!"

"This is scary!"

"Good. It'll be good for you." Jon walked them through the bedroom door and started pulling open dresser drawers. "So, I'm thinking t-shirts, jeans, and flip flops."

"Are you trying to make me look like a really obvious tourist?"

"Looking ridiculous is part of the fun!" He made a face as he pulled out a gray t-shirt with zebras printed on it. "This is a vacation, Zach. If you want to wear '80s sweatpants and eat McDonald's for breakfast every day, I am not going to judge you."

"That's disgusting," Zach huffed. "I would judge me. My arteries would judge me."

"Stop hating!" Jon laughed. "Those hash browns are _the best_."

"Why do I have a feeling you're going to encourage me to make a lot of really poor life decisions?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. McDonald's breakfast is always a good decision," he said as he crouched down to sort through the perfectly-folded socks in the second drawer. They worked their way through the bureau and closet, Jon pulling out clothes and handing them to Zach, who was neatly folding them into a duffel bag.

Zach kept a running count of everything going into the bag that was slowly creating gaps in the closet. It felt freeing, seeing the spaces where he'd fit before that were suddenly empty. Maybe he _could_ just leave, with no preparation, no dividing of things, and just start fresh. "You know what I could go for right now?" he asked. Jon looked up at him curiously. "A cleansing fire."

"Wow!" Jon breathed, looking up at Zach in awe. "That is not how I was expecting that sentence to end. I mean, I approve of your enthusiasm, but let's not burn the house down just yet."

Zach shook his head. "I don't mean burn everything, although... that does have its appeal right now. Maybe it's just the anger, or maybe I drank too much, I just... I really want to be a cliche right now and go crazy and destroy something."

Scratching the back of his neck, Jon looked thoughtfully at the contents of the closet. "Do you have the tuxes here?"

"Yeah, why--" Zach's eyes went wide as Jon pushed through the clothes hanging near the back of the closet and pulled out a couple of bags.

"Is this...?"

"Yeah," Zach gulped, starting to regret opening his mouth. He couldn't really do this, could he?

Jon eyed the tags in the suits and set the one that Zach hoped was his own on the bed. "Find some lighter fluid and a metal trash can."

A few moments later, they were standing in the middle of the room, Zach nervously holding a bottle of lighter fluid and a long fireplace lighter, and Jon stuffing the bag with Andrew's suit in to the trash can. Their eyes met as Jon stepped back, and Zach pushed the lighter into the bin.

"Am I really going to do this?" he asked.

Jon bit his lip. "It's up to you."

He held his breath as he flicked the trigger of the lighter, and then jumped back with a gasp when the cloth in the basket flared up, dangerously close. Jon pulled him back a little. Zach's heart was racing, partly in fear that the fire would catch something else in the room and they'd end up a blurb in the police blotter -- "Two men found dead in charred apartment as a result of a cleansing fire gone awry," it would say next to the underage drinking citations and drug possession charges -- and partly because it felt so good to watch the fire devour the cloth.

"That felt _amazing_ ," he breathed. He felt alive again, for the first time in hours.

"I don't think we should do your tux," Jon said, carefully folding the bag on the bed and placing it into the duffel Zach had moved away from the can.

"Why not? I'm never going to wear it."

"But you should! I'm sure it's nice. Maybe you can make some better memories for it."

"I'll always think of it as the suit I should have worn to my _wedding_."

"Well maybe you should start thinking of it as the suit you wore when you won thousands of dollars in Vegas."

"We're going to Vegas?"

"It's on the way."

Zach shuffled nervously. "I don't know, I'm not really a reckless-weekend-in-Vegas kind of guy..."

"You do realize that you've just convinced me that we are going to Vegas, right?" Jon gave a definitive pull to the zipper on the bag. "So, all ready?"

"Yeah. No, wait," Zach said, reaching under the bed at the last second. He shoved a pair of flat storage bins out from under the frame and dug around for the pillowcase buried between them. His fingers caught on the fabric, and he pulled it forward and slung it around and behind his feet before pushing the bins back.

"What is that? Is it porn?"

"Better," Zach grinned. "It's my emergency book stash."

"With that tone of voice, it _sounds_ like you're talking about porn."

"Don't you have books that you just can't live without? Books that you read over and over again? This," he said, holding up the heavy sack. "Is my emergency book stash. If something were to happen, like a storm or a fire or, y'know, moving out of my house with no notice, these are the books that I absolutely _have_ to take with me."

"You keep them in a pillowcase under the bed?"

He shrugged. "It's easy to grab and run."

Jon looked enamored with the idea. "That's _adorable_ \-- let me see!"

Setting it on the bed, Zach overturned the pillowcase and dumped over a dozen books onto the comforter. Some of them were well-worn and obviously loved, with their spines broken in multiple places and more dog-eared pages than any book really needed. A beat-up trio of _Sherlock Holmes_ looked on the verge of falling apart, a PG Wodehouse omnibus was softened with frayed yellowing pages. There was an oversized annotated collection of everything by Jane Austen that had a cracking red cover and gold lettering that was hardly legible anymore. On the bottom of the pile was an assortment of early Penguin editions of things like _The Picture of Dorian Grey_ and _Wuthering Heights_ with faded orange spines and little multi-colored Post-it tabs peeking out of all the sides.

His recent additions were almost pristine in condition. A collection of Gabriel Garcia Marquez short stories had a faint thumb crease in the bottom right corner; _American Psycho_ looked like it had been started and re-read three-quarters of the way through, but never finished. There was a smattering of mainstream fiction and children's books, his latest escapism preference; everything by Jon Green, the third Harry Potter book, the entire _My Teacher Is An Alien_ series rubber-banded together, a selection of Newbery winners.

Zach felt his heart swell when he looked at them all laid out. "These are my babies," he whispered.

Jon smiled at him sweetly and helped pack them all back into the sack before they left the apartment for good.

 

They packed the suit, a bag of Zach's clothes and books, and the cake into the back of Jon's little Yaris. Jon explained everything to his parents over the phone while he drove to their house in Lancaster. Despite the late hour, they were swept up into warm embraces the second they walked in the door. Jon's mother Julia patted Zach's cheeks and pulled him inside.

"Do you boys need anything? Water? Tea? A sandwich?"

"I need a few minutes, if that's okay? I don't mean to be rude," he stammered. "I am so grateful for your hospitality right now, and I don't want you to think I'm ignoring you, but I have... things to take care of, and I need to get everything cleaned up tomorrow since I won't be there."

"Of course, honey. Don't worry; it's late, so we should be heading back to bed anyway."

"I'm so sorry we woke you up so late."

"It's no bother," she said, waving him off. "If you need us to help pick things up tomorrow, I don't think we can make it to early, but I can get my girls from church to go down and help out."

"That's... really generous of you, but I don't want to--"

"Hush," she said. "You talk to your mother and let me know in the morning, okay? Now come on, I made up the guest room for you." She ushered him into a quaint bedroom in the back of the house. The furniture had a rustic feel, a dresser made of aged wood and a bed with a worn metal frame. The mattress was covered in a soft old blue and gold patchwork quilt, the ends slightly frayed and faded from use, and a matching crocheted afghan that was actually kind of horrendous-looking in its once-charming '60s pattern -- but as Zach sat on the bed and found himself being wrapped up in it by Jon's mother, he discovered it was the most comfortable blanket ever. It felt so mom-made, woven with love and patience.

He looked up at Julia, who was gazing down at him with a despairing look on her face. Zach closed his eyes, feeling her sorrow soaking into him. So this is how people are going to look at him now; he's become the guy who was dumped the night before his wedding. _Fantastic._

"Make yourself at home, honey," she said softly before she shut the door behind her.

Swigging back a long drink of the water bottle he'd set on the trunk at the foot of the bed, Zach dialed his brother's number. Part of him wanted Joe to ignore the call so he wouldn't have to deal with this conversation immediately. But leaving a voicemail would be the coward's way out.

He was just about to disconnect when Joe finally picked up the phone.

"Tell me you did something scandalous with young Jonathan," Joe's voice rumbled through the line.

Taking a deep breath, Zach answered, "We're running away together."

He could hear Joe's muffled laughter. "That's what I'm talking about."

Zach paused in awkward silence, picking at the fray on the hem of his jeans and trying to decide how to say... it.

"Fuck," Joe's voice was strained, and he sounded a lot more sober than Zach _knew_ he was. There was rustling on the other end of the line. "Zach, tell me you're not serious."

"Did you know about Andrew and David?" he blurted out without thinking. "I'm sorry, of course you don't. That sounds ridiculous."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked, sleep evident in his voice. "What about Andrew and David? What _time_ is it?"

"They--" the words died in his throat.

"Zach, what about -- Oh. Oh, no. He didn't."

Even knowing Joe couldn't see it, Zach nodded.

"With _David_?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Son of a _bitch_ ," Joe hissed. "I always knew that asshole--"

"Joe, that's not what I want to hear right now," Zach said desperately.

"Right, of course. Are you okay? Where _are_ you? Have you told Mom?"

"I'm... really not okay, actually. Um, I'm in Lancaster--"

"Lancaster, what the fuck."

"I haven't told Mom, and I need you to maybe talk to some people for me."

"Like Mom?"

"I... I don't know yet." He buried his face in his free hand, slumping over the bed. "I have no idea what I'm going to say to her."

"Okay. Um, first let's go back to the part where you're in the middle of nowhere."

"I wasn't entirely joking when I said I was running away with Jon."

Joe was silent for a few minutes. "Zach, I think maybe that's a little sudden."

"Not like that," he scoffed. "Christ, Joe. I mean, he's on his way to do a favor for a friend out of state, and we thought it might be a good idea for me to get out of town for a while, until this... whatever this is, blows over."

"But what about the wedding?"

"Well obviously there's not going to be a wedding," Zach said stiffly.

"Yeah, I got that much. But don't you have to cancel -- or is that what you need me for?"

"Partly? I don't think I can call everyone coming in. I mean, I can talk to the church and the caterers, and, y'know, all the people putting it together. But I can't possibly talk to everyone showing up... and I don't think I'd want to." He fingered a splitting yarn end that was poking out of a stitch in the blanket before he wrapped himself up tighter and laid back in the bed. "I thought maybe you could tell people when they show up what's going on."

"Okay, yeah. Just let me know what all you need me to do, Zach."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry I'm pushing all this on you."

"I'm sorry your boyfriend's a douchebag."

"I don't think he's my boyfriend anymore..."

"Well, yeah. Goes without saying."

He went through the list of people in his RSVP list that Joe would need to do with in the morning; where to take the decorations if the church didn't want to keep them for another party; how to handle people who would show up to an empty church. By the time they'd finished going over everything, Zach had face-planted into the bed.

"So... how are you going to break this little excursion to Andrew?" Joe ventured. "Not that I think he deserves any warning, but how's that going to work, exactly?"

"I don't know," Zach said honestly.

"You could push a relationship status change on Facebook. Isn't that the new passive-aggressive break-up?"

Zach buried his face further into the bed. "God, it's so complicated breaking up with someone anymore. _I have to update my Facebook_."

"Are you still drunk?"

"What?" He sat up. "No, I sobered a lot when Jon and I set Andrew's tux on fire."

The line was silent for too long before Joe said, "I'm not going to ask if you just said that because I think you really did just say that..."

"I kind of regret it now. A lot, actually. It was a little rash."

Joe barked out a laugh. "Oh, my god. That's priceless. I like this Jon person, he's a good influence. I think this road trip thing is the _best_ idea."

"I'm not going on this trip to go crazy, okay? I just... want to get away from everything and forget that my life is completely fucked up."

"Speaking of fucked up, let's get back to Andrew."

Zach thought for a moment, feeling momentarily shitty. "That suit thing was a dick move, wasn't it? I should probably call him. I feel terrible."

"That douchebag doesn't need an explanation! I say just pretend he doesn't exist, and if I see him tomorrow, I'll sock him in the nose."

"This is such a nightmare," he sighed.

"It's not a nightmare yet. You haven't called Mom."

"Don't remind me," he breathed. "I have no idea how to break this to her."

"Do you want me to tell her?"

"No, that's... I mean, it's my responsibility. She deserves to hear it from me."

"I could conference call her. You don't have to be alone in this, Zach."

"She's going to be mad--"

"She's not going to be _mad_."

"It was a waste of a _lot_ of money, Joe."

"Don't think about it like that. She's probably going to want to kill Andrew, if anything."

"She _loved_ Andrew. Maybe I should just--"

"Zach, I swear to god, if you go back to that douchebag, I will cut your balls off."

"It could have been a fluke!" he said, panicking. What if this was all just a big misunderstanding! It could have been a moment of recklessness, one last hurrah before taking the plunge into marriage. Other people had flings and ordered stripper cakes at bachelor parties -- _Joe_ had insisted on a stripper. This could be the biggest mistake of his life. He could be throwing away six years of his life. Six years of working towards building a family with someone, all over one night. Zach was struck by the sudden urge to run out of the house and go back home.

"Fluke or not," Joe was saying. "It doesn't take away from the fact that it happened. He _cheated_ , Zach." He spoke as if explaining something to a child. "I can't believe you're trying to _excuse_ that."

"I just feel like I did something wrong to make him... I mean, if he was happy with _me_ , then why--"

"Stop!" Joe shouted through the line. "I'm not going to listen to this. Zach, if he was unhappy, he should have talked to you. That's what adults do. Fucking around behind your back and dragging someone else into a mess of a relationship is completely unacceptable. It is avoiding the problem and making it worse."

Zach sighed. "But where did it go bad? I should have seen this coming, right? Like, there was a moment that I could pinpoint and--"

"I don't know what to tell you except that your boyfriend is an _asshole_ and you need to stop thinking you did something wrong. I'm going to call Mom, because I don't think you should talk to her like this."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I can talk to Mom."

"No, you're going to end up justifying his bad behavior just because Mom liked him, and she's going to freak out because you're acting like an idiot. Just... start driving or go to bed, or something. Deal with your shit, and I'll take care of Mom."

 

Zach grabbed a pad of paper and listed everyone he still needed to call. As he expected (and hoped), no one picked up the phone, so he didn't have to talk to anybody, he could leave practiced, pathetic voicemails. After each of the thirteen calls, he drew a neat line through the name and felt a little bit better. By the time the list was completely crossed through, it was after three in the morning, so he turned his phone off and set it near the head of the bed.

Leaning back into the deceptively comfortable (yet still ugly) blanket, Zach stretched his arms high above his head, feeling his spine straighten and pop with released tension. He looked over at the chest at the foot of the bed, where his water and bag were sitting. The bottle he'd been nursing all night was empty, but he still felt dehydrated from sobbing like a teenager on Jon's shoulder at Dairy Queen.

When he walked into the kitchen, Zach's heart lept into his throat. He stood, frozen in the doorway, as he watched Jon and Julia hunched over the table and laughing together as they decorated the cake. After a few moments, Jon noticed him hovering and looked up worriedly. "I'm sorry, I crossed a line, didn't I?" Biting his lip and glancing at the cake, he said, "I just figured... this big box of frosting was going to waste, and--"

"No, that's what it was for," Zach said softly. "At the reception, people were going to decorate it during lunch. It's fine." He felt tears coming to his eyes again.

"Is it okay that we're doing it now?" He still looked uncertain.

"Yeah, it's... it's more than okay. I'm glad someone's getting some enjoyment out of it."

Julia hummed and kept her focus on the icing bag in her hand. "How are you feeling, Zach? There's hot water on the stove if you want some tea."

"Pull up a seat," Jon motioned with a hand splattered with green frosting. "You can help me with my mermaid."

When they'd used up every spot of frosting -- either on the cake or all over the table -- Julia wished them a good night and put on another kettle. Zach sat on the couch, his legs folded up beneath the blanket that Julia had dragged back into the living room on her way to bed, and he held a steaming cup of sleepy-time tea. Jon was to is right, fiddling with the Tivo remote. Every few seconds he would flip to another channel, until Zach squawked into his tea. Flailing with one hand and trying not to spill his cup, he made grabby-hands at the remote. "Here, here, this channel."

" _Law and Order_? Really?"

"So, remember that thing where you said you wouldn't judge me for my vacation decisions."

"I'm not judging," Jon chuckled. "I just never would have pegged you for a _Law and Order_ fan."

"Are you kidding? Cop shows are my weakness." He polished off the last of his cup and set it to his side. "I would sit on the couch and watch them for days straight, if I could."

"You really could, because they're on _all the time_."

"I know, they're so reliable! The world could be ending, but at least three channels will be playing some incarnation of _Law and Order_."

Jon tossed the remote onto the coffee table and fell back into the couch cushions, regarding Zach with an amused smile.

They nestled into the couch, engrossed with the absurd misunderstandings and over-the-top drama, waiting for the big reveal during the end of the show. When the final commercial break rolled, Jon stretched and said, "There aren't enough puns in this one. I like _CSI_ better."

" _Law and Order_ has better stories. _CSI_ is only good for the camp factor."

"The truth is always... hard to swallow," Jon deadpanned, miming David Caruso putting on a pair of sunglasses.

"Oh my god, are you serious. No. You are banned from making Caruso puns."

"The only ban I support... is a Ray-Ban."

"Okay, stop." Zach shook his head. "You're going to be insufferable. Is this really what you did with your college degree?"

"I guess you could say... school is out."


	2. Chapter 2

Zach clenched his eyes shut when a beam of sunlight flitted through the windows. Shifting over, he relaxed and curled into the warmth around him, pulling the blanket tighter and burrowing into the couch cushions before he stiffened with the realization of where he was. Every detail of the night before came flooding back.

Jon stirred from beneath him. "Whazzat?"

Zach started scrambling forward to sit up in the couch, but Jon's arms squeezed tighter from beside him.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled sleepily, nuzzling his face into Zach's neck. "Comfy."

Suddenly very aware of being surrounded by another person, Zach tried hard to relax, lying back into the the warmth of Jon's snuggling. It was new, and uncomfortable, feeling completely wrapped up in a person. Every few seconds, he would try to inch away, unsure how to react to the warm arms around him that only grasped harder whenever he moved. He eventually gave in and calmed down enough to stop his restless shifting for another half hour before he felt Jon shuffling beside him. "I didn't mean to pass out on you," he said as soon as he was able to sit up.

"Don't worry about it." Jon yawned as he rolled his shoulders. He seemed to sink even further into the couch, looking up at Zach with big sleepy eyes. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," he murmured.

"You want some breakfast?" he asked as he smothered another yawn behind his hand. "Or we could get something on the road."

"Breakfast sounds amazing right now, actually."

Jon ran a comforting palm up Zach's back, and they crawled off the couch and walked into the kitchen. The cake was still set on the dining room table. Even after watching Jon and his mother gleefully decorate it last night, Zach still felt it taunting him, and resentment flooded his veins. _You could have been married_ , it seemed to say to him. _And you threw all that away._

Jon caught his eye and gave him a small smile. "I think we should eat the cake for breakfast."

"I kind of want to throw it out the window, to be honest."

"You're talking crazy. This is delicious, overpriced, lovingly-decorated cake, and you are going to eat so much of it you will _bleed sugar_."

Zach cringed. "You're really good at making things go from almost-appealing to mostly-appalling."

"It's a talent," he said, slicing into the cake. "Ohh, this looks yummy. It's got fluff in it!"

"It's a raspberry chocolate mousse."

Jon swiped a finger through the mousse and taste it. Moaning around his finger, he mumbled, "This is delicious. This is our breakfast, right here. Forget about bacon and eggs, we are overdosing on sugar this morning. That'll get us through the first day of driving."

Zach smiled a little and shuffled over to the cabinet above the sink, pulling down a couple of mugs and filling them with the coffee that was already brewing by the stove. After taking a sip, he turned and walked back to the table, giving Jon a cup as well.

The cake looked like a coloring book on acid in the morning light. Jon's mermaid was intricately detailed, and, upon closer inspection, being chased by a shark. He'd managed to pipe in a rocky shoal bottom, and tiny fishes and bubbles. The tier above was filled with traditional cake decorating techniques; practice, he figured, for Jon's underwater masterpiece. There was a row of flowers and something akin to coral, some swirls and stars, stripes and dots and geometric shapes in every color in the box.

Julia had taken over the top tier, which was beautifully filled in with waves of color and poetry swirling all around it.

 _yet hearts may tap like loaded bombs  
yet brains may shrill in carpet-hush  
and windows fly from silent rooms  
and walls break outwards -- with a rush --_

Jon cut out slices from each of the layers and plopped them onto plates while Zach poured them what was left of the coffee and scooped more grounds into the machine.

"Good morning, boys," Julia said as she wandered into the kitchen with a morning-bright smile on her face.

Jon's dad sat down at the other end of the table, setting the paper between himself and the cake. "I see you've started on the cake already. Zach, did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Breakfast?" Julia asked.

" _Caaake!_ " Jon sing-songed from the table as he piled slices onto plates for everyone.

She laughed. "How about real breakfast. You're driving today. Pancakes? Bacon? Toast?"

"Can I help?" Zach asked, standing awkwardly by the table, unsure where he fit.

"Go sit. Have your cake," she smiled as she pulled breakfast fixings out of the pantry and fridge. "Do you boys want anything to take with you? I dug out the cooler last night, so I'm going to pack you some sandwiches, maybe some apple slices and hazelnut spread so you don't have to live off of fast food."

"Why does everyone have to hate on my love for McDonald's breakfast?" Jon sighed around a bite of cake.

"That is not food," Julia admonished, swatting his head with the bag of bread. Zach watched them bicker while they cooked. They squished together at the stove, shoving at each other and making a mess on the counter tops, while Jon's dad sat at the table, occasionally looking up from the paper with affection.

This is what he'd been hoping for when he and Andrew got married -- a family like this one, who fit together so easily. He poked at his plate of cake. So much for that, he told himself.

"You should have some mango-tangerine jam, because I made it, which means it's the best," Jon grinned, nudging Zach's shoulder with his elbow as he dropped a couple slices of toast onto his plate.

"You make jam?"

" _And_ peanut butter," he said proudly.

"Well, far be it from me to refuse your culinary masterpieces."

Jon's smile widened. "See, that is _exactly_ the kind of attitude I expect for this trip. Just agree with all of my brilliant ideas, and we're set."

That would be easy, Zach thought. He wouldn't have to second-guess all of his own choices if he relied entirely on Jon to make all the decisions.

After a hearty breakfast, they bagged a few sandwiches and sliced up a handful of green apples into small Tupperware containers. Julia brought out an astounding number of cold packs and stuffed everything into the cooler the same way his own mother would, which never failed to amaze Zach; they had too much for such a small cooler, but she made it work with some magical mom talent.

It was, of course, ridiculously heavy to drag out to the car. Zach helped her heave it into the trunk while Jim and Jon packed the paintings and duffel bags Jon was bringing along. They closed the trunk with a clunk of finality, and Zach took a deep breath.

"Are you ready?" Jon asked.

He nodded.

"How about you drive?" Jon dropped the keys into his palm.

Julia came up and swept them both into a tight hug, and a few seconds later Jim joined in too. Zach felt a little choked up, being wrapped up by a group of strangers -- these were people who didn't even know him, but cared at least this much. As Zach opened the door to the driver's side of the car, Julia rushed back into the house for a second and returned with the ugly blanket.

Everyone laughed as she pushed it into Zach's lap. "Take it," she insisted. "I have plenty, and I don't care if you think it looks awful or it doesn't match the fancy decor of your hotel rooms. You could use a little homey comfort on your drive."

He smiled sheepishly and squished the blanket, his fingers sliding between the soft stitches as she closed the door.

 

Their morning drive was relatively quiet. Music was playing low on the radio, and Jon chuckled or sighed every so often as he sat curled up in the passenger seat reading something from Zach's Jane Austen anthology. Whenever they'd slow down for a poorly-planned lane merge that backed up traffic for miles, he would look over to see Jon with a dazed grin on his face, thoroughly engrossed in the book. It was nice being around someone who wasn't constantly demanding his attention for something arbitrary, who was happy to just be around him with no expectations.

Zach was starting to feel more relaxed than he had in weeks, now that he had something moderately calming to focus on: being behind the wheel, following the smudged directions Jon had written on a series of Post-Its. He was used to the drive through Pennsylvania, even if it always felt like it would never end. The winding highways were usually under construction in the summer, and the portions that were free of workers were shoddily paved and full of potholes waiting to be worked on again in the next construction season. But badly-paved roads aside, it was beautiful. Sometimes it was almost hypnotic, but still so pretty; and the gorgeously monotonous hills and trees would be replaced by nothing but fields of corn in just a few state lines.

When they hit the first rest stop after reaching Ohio, they took a stretch break. Jon laid across a picnic table with a hand across his eyes and soaked in the sun. Zach brightened at the sight of him sprawled carelessly on the tabletop, and sat down on one of the benches with his phone.

Jon shifted behind him. "Are you going to obsessively check that thing all day?"

"No. I've had it of since I called everyone last night, and I plan on keeping it off wen I'm driving." He cupped a hand over his eyes to block the sun as he peered at Jon. "I just need to check work stuff, and see if Joe's taking care of everything at the church.

"And listen to the voice mails from Andrew at the same time? Are you sure that's a good idea now?"

Zach looked down nervously at his phone. "Is there a time when it will be a better idea?"

"I suppose that's true," Jon said, falling back on the table. "I would have thought you'd have someone taking care of the puppies and kittens for the time you'd have been gone on the honeymoon. Like... that one guy? The one who came in to Starbucks with you most of the time?"

"Yeah, but the shelter is my _life_. Chris may be running things on his own while I'm gone, but I still want to be involved, even if I'm not around. Besides, it's abandoned-kitten season, so there are sure to be boxes of kittens dumped on our doorstep." He gave Jon a determined look. "Don't you want to know about the baby kittens?"

"I do like baby kittens," he conceded after a moment.

Zach looked back down at his phone. Twelve emails, twenty-three text messages, and eight voice mails. He swiped his finger across the navigation bar and pulled up the voice mails. Best to get the worst part over with first.

"You have eight new messages. First new message from contact _Andrew_ ," the recording began. "Received at two forty-one A.M. 'Hey, baby,'" he heard Andrew's drunk-happy voice spill through the phone. "'The house smells like burning. Did you try baking again? Where are you? Call me.' To delete this message, press--"

He dialed 7.

"Next new message from contact _Andrew_ , received at two forty-nine A.M. 'Zach, come _on_. Pick up. What did you set on _fire_ in the _house_?'"

Next message: deleted.

"Next new message from contact _Andrew_ , received at two fifty-seven A.M. 'Are you kidding me? What is going on, Zach? Where is -- some of your stuff is gone. What is in this trash can? It smells -- ugh! Zach, you need to--'"

His finger was on the key before the message even finished.

"Next new message from contact _Mom_ , received at three forty-seven A.M." Zach held his breath as he listened to the message. "'Zach, honey, your brother just called me. I hope you're sleeping now, and I hope you have a safe drive tomorrow. Cal me when you feel up to it. I'm not mad, and I love you.'"

He archived the message from his mom and leaned heavily against the table. The back of Jon's fingers brushed his shoulder before settling in his hair, scritching softly.

"Next new message from contact _Andrew_ , received at four twenty-two A.M. 'Wow, I'm... not sure what to say. I'm a little drunk still, so um. I just talked to Joe. Zach, we really need to talk. Seriously. Call me.'

"Next new message from contact _UU_ , received at eight seventeen A.M. 'Hi, Zachary, this is Joan from the church. I just got your and your brother's messages this morning. Of course we're all sad that the wedding isn't going to happen, we were all pretty excited about it, but don't worry about a thing, okay? There are people here to take care of everything for you. I hope things work out with whatever you do. Have a good trip! Let us know how you're doing when you get back home.'

"Next new message from contact _Andrew_ , received at nine fifty-nine A.M. 'Okay, I get that you're mad and all, but leaving all this bullshit for me to take care of, and turning me into a social pariah is not cool, Zach. I fucked up, I get it, but I thought you were better than this. I can't believe you just... abandoned me here, like you don't have any fucking responsibility anymore. Did you really have to--"

Zach deleted the message before it ended. Jon was probably right; it was too early to deal with everything. The texts and emails could probably wait. He sighed and tilted his head back into Jon's magical fingers, trying to push it all out of his mind.

"Next new message from contact _Chris_ received at ten eleven A.M. 'I am _so sorry_ I missed your call last night. I was still int he hospital with Katie and they wouldn't let any of us have our phones and -- shit, man. If you need me to kick Andrew in the balls -- you know I'm good for it. I have no idea what to say except that if you need _anything_ , you know I'm here. I came in to work this morning to see how Shelby was doing, and someone brought in these tiny baby Maine Coon kittens. They're so fucking cute, man. Be prepared for an onslaught of adorable fluffy kitten pictures and videos, because you definitely need them right now. I love you. Call me when you're feeling up to it.'"

"Hey," Zach said, handing the phone to Jon. "I told you there were baby kittens."

Jon's face broke into a wide smile as he listened to the message. "Oh my gosh, I hope all these messages are pictures of baby kittens." He rolled onto his front and started paging through the texts in Zach's phone. He gasped and shoved the screen under Zach's nose, where there was a picture of two kittens sleeping on each other. "Look. At. The. Kitties. They're so _tiny_!"

Zach's heart kindled as he watched Jon grinning over the pictures. It was always gratifying, making someone so obviously happy with something as simple as a kitten. That was always his favorite part of working at the shelter; seeing the awestruck glow of people appreciating the animals they rescued. He cleared his throat and said, "Chris said they're Maine Coons, so they won't be tiny for long. They're going to grow up huge."

" _I want one_ ," Jon breathed, his eyes shining and his smile blinding.

"They won't be out for adoption for a few weeks yet, if you want to call dibs."

"Yes. Yes, I want _all of them_ ," he gushed, paging through more pictures. "Hey, it's that guy! Seriously, Zach, why didn't you just marry him instead?"

Zach looked over at a picture of Chris, laughing with his arms full of all the kittens. "He's... my best friend. He's in a serious relationship, and he has way too many kittens as it is. Adding the ones I foster would probably earn a visit from the people on _Animal Hoarders_."

Jon shook his head in disappointment. "What were you thinking, marrying some jerk instead of a hot guy version of a Cat Lady?"

Zach laughed and realized he didn't really have a good retort for that.

 

"We should stop for gas pretty soon," Zach said when they were -- where were they, Illinois? They had to be in Illinois by now, but Zach couldn't tell anymore. Everything was running together in a blur of corn fields and free-range weed on the side of the road.

He slowed down as they passed by a highway sign advertising gas stations nearby, and Jon laughed at the names. "Beer Barn? That's amazing. I wonder if they sell anything else."

He turned to Jon and said, "New game: find all the crazy-named convenience stores on the way to California."

"New game: _go_ to the crazy-named convenience stores and buy a mug to proudly display their crazy names while you drink coffee at work."

"Can you get away with drinking out of a cup that says _Beer Barn_? I don't think schools would go for that."

"Ooh, challenge accepted," Jon grinned.

When they pulled off the highway, the sign led them a few miles down a back road to a small, self-service gas station. Once they were inside, Jon made a beeline to the coffee counter and filled a travel mug with what was left of the coffee pot.

"Wow, this is... disgusting. I can't drink this, it's been sitting on a burner for _hours_ ," he grimaced as he sipped from the thermos when they walked out the store. Before they got back into the car, he poured it out onto the sidewalk.

By the late afternoon, they'd managed to find half a dozen bizarre gas stations. They were both wired on too much caffeine, and held long debates over the best gas station name of the day; Jon was still partial to Beer Barn but Zach's favorite was Working Man's Friend. They'd bought a canvas grocery sack at United Dairy Farmers that was designated their Weird Mug Bag.

"Lion's Den Adult Boutique," Jon read from a billboard on the side of the road. "So classy!"

"Yeah, especially when it's attached to something called Love's Travel Stop."

"Didn't we see one of those earlier? It was a superstore. I wonder if there's a difference between an adult superstore and an adult boutique," Jon mused. He grinned and looked over at Zach with excitement. "We should go in and ask!"

"I'm not sure I'm willing to risk a creepy truck driver kidnapping you..."

"Aw," he blushed. "I didn't know you cared."

"Your mother would murder me."

Jon laughed. "But really. It could be fun."

Zach gave him a stern sidelong glance.

"Take the exit," Jon said with complete seriousness. "This is a vacation, Zach. You have to let your hair down sometimes. It's a requirement."

Twenty minutes later, they stood in front of a nondescript corner of a truck stop, with only a handful of semi trucks and a suspiciously shiny red coupe parked outside. There was a heavy bass line pulsing through the walls, playing some quasi-sexy pop song. Zach hesitated before grasping the door handle -- who knew what kind of germs were on it, or how often it was cleaned -- and they walked into what had to be the brightest retail space in existence. The fluorescent overhead lights were nearly blinding, and the shelves were a sterile white with gaudy purple shelves sticking out that overflowed with movies.

And it smelled really weird, like industrial cleaner and incense mixed together with rubbery sex toys. It was sensory overload; loud music, bright lights, and a sickly smell that was nearly overwhelming.

A fey blonde girl was hunched over a giant box behind the counter, slicing open the top layers of tape and bubble wrap inside. She glanced up with eerily big eyes as they walked in and chirped, "Welcome to Lion's Den!"

Zach forced a smile in return, wondering if she was even old enough to _buy_ porn -- then he figured that maybe that kind of look was what got her hired, considering the type of guys who probably frequent truck stop porn shops -- and they meandered further into the store.

Jon was wandering a few steps ahead of him, his hands locked behind his back, trying to look casual while perusing shelves of porn. His forced stance was endearing, and distracting enough to temper Zach's natural discomfort for being in the store. He wasn't sure if this excursion was just for laughs or if Jon really did intend to by some sort of... marital aid. He'd never really considered Jon a sexual being. He was so young, which probably didn't mean much considering the ephibophilic themes of some of the videos in the store, but their interactions had been limited to Jon's workplace, where he'd been all polite sweetness and professionalism. Zach couldn't perv on _the coffee guy_ , that would have been tacky, no matter how cute he was. And Jon was almost too adorable to be real, with his wide eyes and tousled light brown curls. He had a full face that exuded happiness, smiling all the time like it was his job. And now he was smiling at a creepy porn store. It was a weird shift, considering him out of the context of the work, and Zach didn't know how to act around him knowing now that he got a saucy glint in his eye when he saw naked people.

Jon's face lit up when he discovered the trashy books, thrown in a big container reminiscent of the $5 movie bin at Wal*Mart. It was overflowing with slim paperbacks that had covers of unappealing naked people. Jon opened up a book with a girl on the cover who had cheaply pasted stars over her nipples. He gasped and dropped it back in the pile before sorting through to find the gems of the store. Another few books had him holding back laughter. In between scoping out the rest of the store, Zach noticed Jon was keeping a small pile of books to the side of the bin.

After a few moments, he gravitated toward the Top 25 Bestselling DVDs, with Jon trailing behind him, books in hand. Neither of them could contain their snickers as they surveyed the titles on the shelf.

Jon pulled down a boxed set. " _Buckets of Cum Inside Your Mom_ , volumes one through five. Because there were so many unanswered questions in the first four?"

"Well," Zach sighed, holding up a copy of _Don't Tell My Wife I Assfucked The Babysitter 6_ \-- the subtitle was _or she will fucking kill me_ , which added the all-too-often-neglected realism to the porn industry -- and said, "I guess you can't really fault them for being up-front about it, but I'm a little disappointed that they would give away so much of the plot in the title."

Jon looked away with a wicked grin and put his movie back on the stand before he turned to the giant glass cases beneath the register. He crouched in front of a cabinet full of bottles of what looked like massage oil and every brand of lube that ever existed. Zach couldn't help but flush with -- what, shame? Why was he so nervous to be in here, especially when Jon seemed so at ease picking up things called Gun Oil and Sliquid?

"Gross," the stock girl muttered under her breath, unintentionally catching both their attention. When she glanced up from the boxes to see them both staring at her, she said, "Someone stole the antibacterial _again_ , and my hands smell like dildo."

Jon sputtered with laughter, doubling over on the floor with his head almost tucked between his knees.

Clipping a box cutter onto the lanyard around her neck, she scowled and reached over the edge of the counter to pop open the cap of a KY Orange Dreamsicle wipes bottle before furiously scrubbing her hands. Her name tag said, "Hi, I'm DAPHNE: Lion's Den SeXXXpert!" and Zach figured the tacky badge probably contributed to the dour look on her face.

With Jon engrossed in the bottled products and Daphne intent on rubbing the dildo-smelling skin off her arms, Zach ambled over to the toys section of the store. Most of the toys were your run-of-the-mill vibrators, sleek silver rockets and curved rubber stimulators, but some of the bullets were creepy, with anime-style animal faces painted on them, or, in some cases, shaped like dolphins. Zach cringed when he thought about who would buy a sex toy that _stared at you_. He walked along the sale rack full of discounted erection pills, vibrators with no vibes, and stripper costumes missing pieces of clothing.

What caught his eye was a shelf with three enormous boxes on display with something called _Fuck Me Silly 2: Mega-Masturbator_. It... it couldn't be real. The box advertised "over twelve pounds of tits and pussy" made of something called Fanta-Flesh, which was probably some synthetic skin that was impossible to keep clean. He picked the box off the shelf, and it felt a _lot_ heavier than just twelve pounds. His experience was limited, but he was fairly certain that no human woman actually had the proportions on the cover of the box. And they tended to have arms and legs, instead of being a headless, disembodied torso.

He couldn't stop himself from reading the marketing blurbs in curiosity. How on earth were people wiling to spend $300 on such a toy, when that money could easily be spent on a hooker for an hour? Unrealistic proportions aside, it looked difficult to maintain, which seemed to go against its purpose as a hassle-free lover. "She's warm, she's tight, and she never says NO! No commitments, no bullshit!"

Zach felt bone-deep disappointment for whomever came up with the box cover copy. He walked back to the front of the store and waited for Jon to finish his shopping.

Leaning against the counter with a bottle of something in one hand and the books sitting next to the register, Jon was casually talking with the girl behind the desk, like he was perfectly content to chatter with a stranger about tired porn tropes and lube preferences.

"I have to know," he was saying. "What's the difference between an adult superstore and an adult boutique?"

"Size," she answered as she put his things into a black plastic bag. "The superstores are bigger, in these huge, windowless warehouse buildings. There are smaller stores too, called _adult bookstores_."

He nodded. "People ask you that a lot, don't they?"

"Not usually. Most of the time it's, 'So, this job must be interesting, huh!'"

A scarlet blush spread down his cheeks. "I... nearly said that."

"The rest of the time it's a variation of some guy hitting on me. 'So which of these movies star you and me?'"

Jon started to look as distressed as Zach felt. "People say those things to you?"

"It's part of the job," she shrugged.

"I want to hug you, but then I'd be the creepy guy hugging you in the porn store."

"Your restraint is appreciated."

He looked at the bag she was pushing across the counter. "Wow, I wish I'd made a less creepy purchase."

"I'm not judging," Daphne waved him off. "At least, not on the outside. These books are pretty hilarious. The FedEx guy and I read them aloud when he brings them in."

If a light bulb had sprung up above Jon's head, it wouldn't have made his intentions as obvious as the look of unashamed glee that spilled across his face. Zach started to regret pulling into the truck stop. He wasn't sure if he could survive Jon reading porn.

 

It was getting dark, and Zach wasn't sure where they were. They'd driven for another couple of hours after leaving the porn store, and it was pretty late into the night. Jon was almost dozing against the car door, his face smushed against the window. "Where are we now?" he asked, failing to hide a yawn.

"Somewhere in Illinois, I think."

Jon pulled his phone out of the console and opened up Google Maps. After a few minutes of chewing his fingernails in concentration while he fiddled with the GPS, he said, "We drove pretty far today! We're almost through Illinois now. I don't know anything about Moline, but I think we should stop here for tonight. I'm pretty tired."

"Yeah, you look like you're about to pass out."

"I can't believe you're not. You've been driving all day."

"It gives me something to concentrate on, like not swerving into a tree." He looked over at Jon, who was busy playing with the phone. "Look and see where there's a cheap hotel in Moline."

Jon nodded and swiped through the pages on the screen. "Okay, there's a Country Inn... it's right off the highway, but someone said it was hard to find, so keep an eye out for a McDonald's."

It took a few trips down the street before they finally found the hotel sequestered in an inconvenient back road. Once they were inside, the receptionist informed them that there were few rooms still available, because a girls' soccer team was staying for a competition. Zach was wary, but agreed to a room with a single queen bed, praying that Jon wouldn't choose now to start reading the porn books. He briefly wondered if he could find them and throw them out the window in the middle of the night so Jon wouldn't have the temptation available.

The room itself wasn't fancy, but it wasn't bad as far as chain hotels go. As soon as they brought their bags in, Zach's exhaustion caught up with him and he dropped back onto the comforter with a sigh. Even with the miles and hours put into the day's drive, Illinois didn't feel like anywhere near far enough to truly relax.

The bed dipped beside him as Jon sat down and started stroking his hair. "You doing okay?" he asked sleepily.

Zach closed his eyes and nodded.

Jon's fingers were steadily carding through his hair, sending a calming tingle through his scalp and down his spine. It had been far too long since anyone had paid this kind of attention to him, and it was a little unnerving. When he felt Jon's blunt nails skirting down the back of his neck to run back up his head, he thought he might melt into a puddle in the bed. "I think I could easily become addicted to your head scritches."

"That's because they're the best in town." He could hear the smile in Jon's voice. "You're pretty starved for affection, too. I'm sure that's a factor."

"Maybe," Zach murmured, leaning a little more into Jon's magic fingers. "It's not something I seek out."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I guess I never really needed it?"

"I couldn't live without touching people," Jon said. His fingers stopped slipping through Zach's hair for a moment. "If I go overboard with it, just let me know if it bothers you."

"'sfine, I'm just not used to it." When the fingers resumed their brushing in earnest, Zach found he'd been missing them, even just for the few seconds. The thought scared him a little, but the touch was nice. It was comforting. Zach could probably fall asleep any second if it kept up.

Jon pulled playfully on a few chunks of Zach's hair. "Even with hair-petting, you still look so maudlin. Wanna talk about it?"

Zach curled closer into the fingers on his scalp. "Just... I don't know. I wish we were in California already. I keep getting the urge to turn around and go back home."

"Hm... I'm definitely in charge of driving tomorrow."

"I wouldn't do it," he said quickly. "It's just a compulsion. I know you have places to go, and it would be a waste of gas to double back."

"Do you really want to go back home?"

Zach opened his eyes to glance up at Jon, who gave him a tight smile as his fingers gripped more hair. "I feel like a coward for running out of town instead of sticking around and dealing with the aftermath."

"This wasn't your fault."

"I still feel like... like a failure. Like there was something I could have done..."

"Failure would have been settling for less than you deserve," said Jon. His face softened and Zach had to look away again.

"I deserved Andrew, though. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that he was just waiting to tell me about whatever he and David are until after we were married, because he knew I wouldn't leave then."

Jon pulled back slightly. "That's... Zach, why would you _stay_?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Because we'd been together for so long -- and trying to start over would take years, and so much work. Even now it feels like I wasted all that time. I wanted to have a family _so much_. That was more important than whether Andrew and I were, like, soul mates or meant to be or whatever."

"But regardless of whether you were right for each other, he was going around behind your back. That's not family. Families take care of each other. Families _love_ each other."

"I never expected that kind of... all-encompassing, limitless love."

" _Why_?"

Zach shrugged.

"No, that's not a question you can just brush off." Jon stopped scritching altogether and gave him a push on the shoulders.

Zach sat up on the bed to see Jon giving him The Look. He resigned himself to start getting used to seeing that look of pity whenever he breached the topic of Andrew. The hurt was the same -- a bruising ache in his chest, feeling like he a disappointment.

"Why would you marry him if you knew it wouldn't last?"

"It _would_ have lasted. We could have made it work. It's hard to explain... We had the same goals, and he wouldn't have gotten a divorce because it would have looked bad, and I wouldn't have gotten one because just... having a family would have been enough."

"But if he doesn't respect you--"

"He _does_ respect me."

"No." Jon looked horrified. "No, Zach that is _not_ respect."

Zach sighed. He knew his relationship wasn't perfect, but it was _enough_. He'd never wanted anything else, and second-guessing everything now was pointless. It wasn't going to change the fact that he'd already completely fucked up and now there was no way to go back and fix it. "Can we talk about something else? I'm not trying to brush you off, but I don't think you can understand."

"I want to understand."

"I think... you just approach relationships differently than I do." Zach leaned back into the bed again. "We both had expectations and needs, and they were being met, or at least on the way there. I wanted a family, but I... I didn't need him to _love_ me. I mean, we liked each other and we could live together. And who knows maybe one day... there could have been more -- but I didn't expect it."

Jon was quiet for a few minutes before he whispered, "I just don't see how you could live with him, spend the rest of your _life_ with him, knowing that he probably doesn't love you."

"He was really good to me. Aside from this, obviously. But he treated me well, and he _did_ respect me. He respected my feelings and how I wanted to live my life. We worked really well together. Being together made sense, I just..." He looked down at his hands in his lap. "I just wish he'd trusted me enough to tell me he wasn't happy, to tell me what was wrong. We could have worked it out. I could have fixed it."

"Maybe he knew that leaving was the only way to fix it," Jon said, wrapping a hand around Zach's shoulder, his fingers stroking with the same even pressure they had on his scalp a few moments before. Zach didn't have to look up at him to know that his face was full of pity and sadness.

"Please stop looking at me like that," he croaked.

"I'm sorry, I just... I can't imagine a life like that. When you used to come in to the coffee shop, and even when I saw you at the bar, you seemed _happy_."

"I was."

"But that sounds miserable." He gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "I mean, my track record with relationships is less than glowing, but I could never _marry_ someone thinking that they were just doing it because it was convenient, or that it would take a lot of fixing to make it work. I would want things to work because we both want them to, not because one of us has to fight for it. Maybe I'm naive, but if I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone, I want it to be with a guy who wants to be with _me_ , because he _loves_ me. I don't want someone to settle for me. I want to be the first choice."

"I never felt the need for that kind of devotion from a single person." Zach started to feel self-conscious. "Do you think there's something wrong with me for not wanting that?"

"I don't know, Zach," he sighed. "I don't want to dismiss your feelings by saying you need to find the right person just because that's how _I_ feel, but... I want to help, and I don't know how."

"You don't need to help me."

"I need to help everyone," he laughed.

Zach smiled. "It's not like I don't have people in my life who care about me. I have my friends, and my family."

"Yeah, but that's not the same."

"That's a lot of responsibility, to expect all that from a single person."

"But it's not one-sided responsibility; in a good relationship, you take care of each other. It shouldn't all be on one person's shoulders."

"That's... how it was with Andrew."

"I don't think so. I think your lives just molded around each other instead of actually fitting _together_."

Jon moved closer and wrapped Zach in a hug. Again. He had such easy affection, and he gave it out like there was nothing to it, never expecting anything in return. Zach wondered how someone could give so much without worrying about how it would be received.

As Jon pulled them back to lie on the bed, he murmured into Zach's hair, "You deserve to have someone take care of you, sometimes."


	3. Chapter 3

It was creeping into the early hours of the morning and Zach couldn't fall asleep. He was uncomfortably aware that he was in a strange room, in a strange bed, with sheets other people have slept in and too many electronics in the room giving off faint LED flickers that stared him down like accusations. And he wasn't alone, which was strange and new. There was no way he could sleep like this, smothered by a warm body wrapped around him.

He tried to push through it for the first hour, just closing his eyes and trying to sync their breathing. He lay completely still, pretending that the overwhelming heat of Jon's body surrounding him was just a blanket he couldn't kick off. Even though his own body was trying to tell him otherwise, he wasn't really being crushed to death by the vice grip of Jon's arm squeezing his chest. But there was no escaping it. And there was no good way to go about detaching himself. He worked himself up to try and move every few minutes, but Jon's slow breathing made him paranoid that any sudden movement would wake him up, and that would start another barrage of awkward questions. He tried moving away inch by inch, but it seemed that even in sleep, Jon was intent on his sweltering snuggle-fest; for every centimeter Zach pulled back, Jon moved a few more closer.

His body was starting to go into panic mode. His heart was beating erratically, his muscles kept locking up, and he could hardly breathe. He wondered if Jon would somehow sense that Zach was holding his breath, and wake up with questions and concern in his eyes.

The opportune moment finally came when Jon sighed and shifted to roll slightly to the other side. Zach pulled away quickly, watching in terror for any reaction. Jon rolled back into the warm spot, burrowing into the pillows with a whine.

He had backed a few feet away from the bed when he heard Jon mutter sleepily into the fabric, "Why moving?"

He'd been caught. He looked around the room, trying to think of an excuse. Glancing at Jon sprawled across the bed, he figured an escape now was probably his best bet. He ducked out the door and tried to close it quickly and quietly.

Taking a deep breath, he slid down the wall in the hallway, falling to the floor in exhaustion. Sleep was probably out of the question tonight, no matter how tired he felt.

He heard the door click open and he tensed up, waiting for the awkward talk to begin.

"Hey," Jon yawned, shuffling out the door and sitting next to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just needed some air."

The hall was silent, with the exception of Jon yawning a few more times, which only piled on the guilt even more. He could tell Jon was slowly waking himself up enough to talk, and also trying really hard not to touch him again. "You're weirded about the touching thing..." he said, like he could read Zach's mind.

"I'm not," he said hesitantly.

"You're trying to act like it's not a big deal, but--"

Zach avoided his eyes. "It's okay," he murmured. "When I'm not trying to sleep, it's easier."

"Easier. But still..." Jon sighed. He stretched forward and curled his legs up, wrapping his torso around his knees to look in Zach's direction. After a moment, he said, "You went to sleep okay yesterday."

"That was different. I was completely out of it yesterday. I zoned out watching TV and you happened to be there. Tonight..." He looked over at Jon resting against himself, ready to fall asleep again. "There was nothing to distract me from the fact that there was someone there. It was just... too much."

He frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I do kinda latch on to whatever's there in my sleep."

"I'm sorry you're stuck with a neurotic mess of a roommate. It's not a touching thing, it's... I don't know, I just can't sleep knowing that there's someone there. I'm not a very restful sleeper in general, and I can't get comfortable, thinking that I'm going to like, flail around or start talking in my sleep, or something that'll wake you up."

"I know I'm not the best morning person, but I'm not going to be mad if you wake me up, Zach. Just relax," he said, as if it was really that easy. He stood and held out his hands to pull Zach up too. They pushed through the door back into the room and Jon gave him a nudge toward the bed. "Lie down, on your stomach."

"Why?" Zach asked, even as he was already doing it.

"Good touch, I promise. Trust me."

He felt the bed dip to his side, and Jon ran his hands up Zach's back, catching on the cotton of his t-shirt.

"Trust me," Jon repeated, his voice soft and sleepy. He lightly ran the heel of his palms up Zach's back, kneading over his shoulders, pushing deep below his ribs. He rubbed up and down a few times, and once, when he stroked back down, he pressed his knuckles into the muscles just to the sides of Zach's spine and dragged them down hard. Halfway down, it felt like Jon had pushed some magical button that turned his bones to jelly.

Jon seemed to notice, huffing out a tired laugh before nudging with his knuckles and thumbs again, pressing into the base of Zach's spine. Zach felt himself sinking further into the bed. He really was relaxing into the starchy comforter with every press of Jon's fingers into his back. Jon kept up the amazing drumming of his fingers around Zach's back, switching it up by dragging his palms back and forth again. Zach wasn't sure how long it continued, feeling sleep start to pull him in.

The bed shifted and he felt Jon curl up beside him, lightly brushing against his side and rubbing his back. Every few upstrokes, he'd run the ends of his blunt nails across Zach's back.

"Better?" he asked quietly, his voice as soft as the press of his hands.

Zach hummed distractedly into the pillow.

 

When he woke up later in the morning, he noticed that he hadn't moved at all in sleep. He was still face-first into the pillows, and Jon was sprawled next to him, still touching just a bit, with a hand curled in the back of his shirt. He shifted a little to look down at Jon's face buried in an impossible, awkward angle against his shoulder.

"What are you laughing at?" Jon mumbled into the bed.

"You look ridiculous," Zach said.

"Shut up." He rolled away, pulling a pillow over his face and looking ready to go back to sleep.

"We should get breakfast."

Jon groaned into the pillow and flipped over, burrowing into the bed. "Sleepy," he whined, his voice sinking into the coverlet.

Zach rubbed at the sleep dirt in his eyes and stumbled into the bathroom. He could feel his contacts drying his eyes out as he looked blearily into the mirror. Rooting around his little bag on the counter, he pulled out his glasses and set his contacts in solution for later.

"Oh, wow," Jon laughed as he stumbled into the bathroom behind him, toothbrush in hand. He shook his head with a smirk. Every few seconds, he would glance up at Zach and get a weird look on his face. When he finished brushing his teeth, he pulled the glasses off and peered through them. "I never realized you were such a hipster."

"My contacts were itchy!" Zach huffed as he squeezed in some eye drops. "I'm sorry if my eyewear offends you--"

"Nooo," Jon grabbed a this arms and put the glasses back on with a smile. "I'm sorry. They're not offensive. You can wear your big hipster glasses if you want. I think they're cute."

They finished freshening up to leave and checked out of the hotel. Zach rolled his eyes when Jon started pulling the car into the McDonald's drive-thru line around the corner. "I thought the McDonald's thing was a joke."

"No way," Jon said. "You are going to have some crappy coffee, a sausage McMuffin, and some greasy hash browns -- and you are going to _love it_." When they'd pulled up to the speakerbox, Jon cheerfully ordered two sausage McMuffins, four hash browns, and two coffee-like drinks -- Jon insisted they were nothing like real coffee, to which Zach replied that McDonald's breakfast was nothing like real food.

When they were safely on the highway, Jon opened the bag and divvied out their breakfasts. The coffee was terrible, as predicted, and Zach took his time cautiously unwrapping the sandwich, wary of the grease stain that had soaked through the paper.

It wasn't as awful as he'd remembered. It was no homemade breakfast like the one Jon's mother had given them the day before, but it was mostly edible: an over-salted English muffin with over-processed cheese, what might have been an egg, and a sausage patty that probably didn't actually have any meat in it. If nothing else, it tasted just like any other greasy, generic McDonald's sandwich. Nothing special.

He was trying not to think about it, but Zach was pretty sure he could feel his arteries constricting with the bad kind of cholesterol as he ate. His body was not used to such low quality food -- eating well was the one luxury he allowed himself on his paltry salary -- and he hadn't set foot in a McDonald's in years.

"I'm not sure I can eat this," he said, putting it back in the wrapper and looking for a pile of napkins or a ShamWow to wipe all the grease off his fingers.

"What?" Jon asked with betrayal in his eyes and food stuffed in his cheeks. He looked a little like a disappointed chipmunk, which was almost inspiring enough to continue eating. "But they're so yummy! At least try a hash brown, they're like crack."

The hash browns _were_ better, salty and crisp on the outside and squishy on the inside, and it resembled something like food compared to the weird combination of textures in the sandwich, although it was possibly _more_ greasy.

Jon was pouting as he picked apart his sandwich with shiny fingers and maneuvered the steering wheel with his forearms. "I can't believe you reject my sandwich offering."

Driving through Iowa was only marginally more interesting than the other string of monotonous Midwest states. Once they'd passed through the Quad Cities, they found the so-called World's Largest Truck stop, which looked like a small city made of gas stations, chain hotels, and fast food restaurants. It was a little scary.

They passed a few dozen more black and yellow signs for Lion's Den Adult Superstores, but Zach successfully prevented any more stops. Each time, Jon got a wicked glint in his eye that told Zach the next time they stopped anywhere, it would involve reading from the awful books.

And stopping came all too soon. A couple of hours into the morning, they were stuck on the highway. Traffic was backed up for as far as either of them could see, and they were stuck in a single lane of the highway due to what had to be the worst construction setup in the history of roadwork.

Jon mused over extravagant, regionally-appropriate ways the road would be blocked -- his favorite so far involved a truck full of corn that suddenly exploded on the road and filled the highway with popcorn for miles, and the drivers would all abandon their routes to binge on popcorn -- but there was little to distract them from being trapped on a highway in the middle of nowhere. They had exhausted all of the interesting things to look at outside. There were creepy cardboard cutouts of local politicians lining the road. They had no names, they were just billboards of faces. Beyond that... nothing but corn and cars for miles. They were surrounded by fields, and an occasionally tree.

Jon killed the engine and rolled down all the windows, letting in the faint summer breeze. As boring as it was to look at, at least the air felt fresher than the recycled, temperature-controlled air from the car.

Zach wasted a good half hour of the wait trying to beat Chris at Words With Friends while Jon busied himself with texting someone of his own. Chris gently pressed for details about the trip but put up with Zach being evasive and unchatty, eventually forwarding a YouTube video of The I-80 Song that entertained them for a few minutes.

Jon turned to Zach and said, "You know what time it is?"

Zach regarded him for a moment before he remembered. He reached back and looked for the books in the backseat so he could throw them out the window. "We are not reading those porn store books."

Jon only snickered and -- of course he would hide them where Zach couldn't attack them -- pulled out the black plastic bag from under the driver's seat. "Okay, so we've got _Senatorial Privilege, Orgy All Night, She Taught Him To French_ , and _Stripwrecked_."

Zach stayed silent, pointedly staring out the window as Jon held up the deplorable covers for inspection. He could swear the fresh country air disappeared and the car filled with the smell of the porn store as Jon opened the bag, but maybe he was just imagining it because the scent was so strongly associated with his horror.

"I vote for _Senatorial Privilege_ ," Jon was saying. "I know what's going on in the other covers, but this one is a mystery! My anatomy classes did not prepare me for figuring out the mechanics of sexy dodecahedrons."

Cringing, Zach thought about how he could roll up the window with his head in it, and he peered outside to see if there was any chance a driver might get cocky and run him over if he got out of the car.

"Come on," Jon wheedled, batting his elbow with one of the dirty paperbacks. "As scandalized as you'll be, you know it's going to be funny."

"It's going to be terrible."

"But funny!" He flipped through the pages aimlessly, looking at Zach for direction before he flung open the book to a random page and started reading.

" _He skewered her on his long pole of meat, rodding it deep into her belly with each powerful thrust._ "

Groaning, Zach buried his face in his hands, convinced he would throw up with horror at any second. Well, horror and hash browns.

He started thinking of today as Question All of Jon's Decisions Day.

" _Robin gasped and whimpered, unable to think straight as she bounced up and down, hammered by his heavy body, and impaled on his long fuck pole. Her legs kept mashing her tits, rolling the soft, malleable flesh beneath them like it was bread dough and they were rolling pins. Rawling's cock was stabbing her in the guts--_ "

"Okay, stop," Zach said, burning with second-hand embarrassment. There was nothing even remotely sexy, or even entertaining, about Jon's read-along. The content alone was enough to kill any boner, and Jon's approach to reading it, like it was a children's picture book, made it even creepier.

Jon paged through the book thoughtfully. "It was pretty bad. I mean, they used the word pole a lot. Let's see if it gets better." He flipped through some more pages and started reading again. " _His thick prong--_ Oh, prong! That's new! _His thick prong was mashing with violent pressure against her clitty, crushing and sawing at the tiny little fuck bud as it plunged repeatedly into her cunt opening. Her cunt lips were flapping like a hummingbird's wings as they followed the pistoning motion of his cock._ "

"It's weird hearing you say the word _fuck_ like that."

"So? It's part of the writing style."

"I know, but I don't think I've heard you swear outside of reading that book."

Jon shrugged. "I don't really feel the need to talk like that. I mean, those words have their purpose, but usually there are better ones to use." His face screwed up in distaste. "I'm not sure I can read this one anymore. It's really bad."

"What were you expecting from a porn store?"

"I thought it would be more erotica and less... this? Or at least funnier? Girl parts flapping like a hummingbird? Really? Kinda grossing me out." He sifted through his stack of books. "How about... _She Taught Him To French_? I bet it's got a naughty teacher."

"I'm afraid for the young minds you're going to be nurturing at camp," Zach pointed out.

"Oh my gosh," Jon crowed. "This one has sound effects!

" _He pushed his groin up further into the air, forcing his tortured iron to slide clear up in her fist. Linda's lips were right in front of his sperm-filled testicles, the delightful smell--_ "

Zach broke into laughter, and Jon gave him an ecstatic grin before his eyes rolled up and he started moaning loudly.

" _'Nnnggghhh! Uuummmppphhh!' Hugh was bucking up and down on the bed, forcing his throbbing column in and out of her squeezing hand. Linda moved her fingers right down to the base of his meat and stopped her frigging motion, afraid he would cum right in her hand._ " At this point, Jon looked Zach straight in the eye and read with a saucy leer, " _She had better things in mind for this handsome college student that she had picked up in a supermarket. After he sacked her groceries, she made a date to sack him._ "

Zach bit his lip and tried to keep a good poker face. "That pun was pretty good," he said calmly when Jon looked over expectantly.

" _Never had she seen such a hard, sleek male body. He was all muscle, including the iron-hard ram sticking up to tantalizingly between his thighs. 'Oh, suck me! Please, Linda! Do it!'_

 _"Linda Cook, high school French teacher, decided it was time to oblige. 'Ooohhh! AAAHHH!' Hugh's whole body shook with pleasure. Peter-juice was oozing out of the head of his pecker like water from a leaky faucet._ "

Jon was struggling to keep a straight face as he read, but he lost it by the end. They both collapsed into giggles. Zach wiped laugh tears away from his cheeks and saw a driver next to them giving them a stern look. With a grin, Jon shrugged, holding up the book and scandalizing the old woman. She turned away furiously, which only encouraged their chuckling.

 

"Ohh, cars are moving!" Jon excitedly turned the car back on, and they began inching forward. He had the book in one hand while he steered, a finger marking his place, but he didn't open it up again. It took half an hour to go just a few miles further -- reaching civilization, finally -- and they noticed that the only reason anyone had started moving was because people were giving up on the one-lane setup and driving off at the next available exit.

Jon peered out the window to see the cars ahead of them, and they too pulled off and drove into town. They passed a gas station with a Brontosaurus on display, followed by a grocery store with a giant plaster cow on wheels. Weaving slowly through the traffic in town, they hit a barricade in the middle of the street, blocking them from driving through some kind of festival. Jon turned around and pulled them into a parking garage a few blocks away, and they wandered downtown with the other festival-goers.

Every few feet, Jon would stop and read the bronze placards set into the sidewalk. Each one had a different quote from a famous author, sometimes with a notation of when they taught at or attended the university. On the corner of a few blocks, there were enormous art installations of plaster books. Some of them were for local authors, but some were more recognizable like _The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo_. One was even covered in black matte paint, with pieces of chalk in a container in the ground that children were using to scribble all over the display.

They came to a stop at the end of an aisle full of food vendors. Zach was contemplating whether he wanted to try the booth full of cakes or the one with vegetarian Indian food when he noticed Jon looking across the street. He followed Jon's gaze and saw two older men holding hands in the crowd. A white-haired man was folded up in a wheelchair and his bearded partner sat at his feet in the grass, leaning against his knees and looking up at him with complete adoration.

Jon looked wistfully at them sitting together on the quad. Zach could see the hope in his eyes, his awe at two people loving each other for so long. Jon would definitely end up like that, Zach thought. He had so much love and good inside him.

Zach was struck by the urge to hug him, so grateful that Jon was willing to put up with an emotionally stunted homebody for hours on end.

Before he could over-think it, he hovered closer and tentatively wrapped Jon in a hug. Jon tensed up in surprise before returning the embrace, nuzzling for a few seconds and slotting his face into the crook of Zach's neck, hands fisting the hem of Zach's tee. They settled in together, surrounded by the crowd.

It felt so freeing, holding someone so close in the middle of a crowd of strangers. His insides felt like they were smiling, and he realized he actually _was_ smiling, probably harder than he had in his life.

Zach wondered if this was how Jon felt all the time. It would certainly explain his affinity for hugging _everyone_.

After a long moment, Jon pulled away with a bashful look and they resumed wandering the campus. They walked up the flower-flocked sidewalks, past the gathering of people sitting in the grass for a concert. Zach watched Jon's eyes flickering over to the old men sitting together, his smile becoming soft. Their eyes met briefly as they walked up the steps to the museum, and Zach thought for a second that he caught a blush creeping up Jon's cheeks.

It was blisteringly hot outside, so they ducked into the first air-conditioned building they could find, which happened to be the university's museum of natural history. The building smelled like school and fixtures that hadn't been updated since the sixties. They walked up the stairs to the museum floor and as soon as they walked through the entrance, they were greeted by... a giant sloth. Seeing them in pictures was nothing compared to standing face to face with an enormous taxidermied red sloth, with huge hands and huge everything, and creepy, soulless eyes. It was dressed up in a bright yellow cap and gown, presumably for graduation weekend.

Jon fumbled in his jeans pockets to pull out his phone and take a picture. "It's celebrating _my_ graduation, of course," he grinned proudly.

They strolled through the museum, taking in the fossils and agricultural history displays, confirming that the middle of nowhere was just as boring as Zach had always thought.

"This is my only knowledge of Iowa," Jon said, gesturing to the graph in one of the cases. "It's full of corn that no one actually eats."

"Well, people eat it, just not as its own food. High fructose corn syrup is in virtually everything we eat."

"That's just... disgusting." Jon said, looking unhappy. He pointed at the leaves on the graph. "Half of the corn goes into corn syrup and the rest is either turned into feed for animals that can't digest it, or corn starch."

Zach pulled him away from the display and they went through a doorway leading up to a floor labeled _Bird Hall_.

"Have seen that documentary _King Corn_?" Jon asked as they hiked up the stairs.

"Yeah. I went on a kick for a while where I wouldn't eat anything with corn in it."

"Right? Did you starve or only eat overpriced organic food?"

"After a while I realized I lived in middle-class America, so I couldn't really escape it and still be able to pay my rent."

Jon nodded. "I've worked out a good balance, I think. I try to eat mostly fresh stuff, but I know that there are some things I can't escape. My parents raised me to eat well. It kinda stuck with me."

"Except for your fondness for McDonald's breakfast," Zach countered.

"I don't know why you don't like the sandwiches. They all taste the same!" He said vehemently. "And I don't care what you say about it, they're delicious. That's one of the bad foods I just can't live without."

"It's good you've acknowledged that you could never succeed with a diet that restricts your disgusting breakfast habits."

"Please, like you don't love my disgusting breakfast habits. I could tell you were trying to hold back your O-face when you ate those hash browns."

 

After perusing the bird floor and grabbing some of the pastries from a booth appropriately named Yummy, they headed back to the car and hit the highway again. The traffic had cleared slightly, although it was still slow-going until they were miles away from town again, so they enjoyed the sugar high and fresh air. Instead of stopping somewhere for lunch, they pulled off at a rest stop and finished off the rest of the sandwiches in the cooler.

While he drove, Jon sang and hummed along to the radio, thankfully at a volume that human beings were capable of withstanding. (Zach would never forget the drives with his brother that involved ear-splitting sing-alongs to bad hair metal.) Jon's taste in music was acceptable, with the exception of his fondness for truly trashy pop music -- which could be forgiven, since it was pretty catchy -- and he didn't belt out Katy Perry as loud as humanly possible in an enclose space, like it was an amphitheater and not a Yaris.

Most of the time, it was nice. He listened to a lot of Disney soundtracks, which led to some epic sing-alongs and a mutual confession that Ursula was the greatest Disney villain of all time. And sometimes there was '80s techno, which was a surprise, but Jon didn't seem fazed by Zach's questioning eyebrow.

He tried not to judge, because he didn't want to be That Hipster Who Hates Pop Music... but Jon listened to a lot of really bad pop music. His iPod had that alien song by Katy Perry on it _at least_ three times, and it was going to be stuck in Zach's head for _days_.

"Alien sex? Really?" he said once when they'd been listening to the version with a Kanye West rap.

"Oh, see," Jon said, reaching for the iPod. "You were distracted by the alien sex and missed the best part."

When the song queued up again: "Did he just say.. _First I'll disrobe you... and then I'mma probe you_?"

"Uh, _yes_. Great rap or _greatest_ rap?"

"Well, it certainly fits the theme of Katy Perry being crazy."

"And you know that all the songs on that album are about her having crazy tantric sex with Russell Brand."

Zach fixed him with a horrified glare. "I can never not know that."

"Yes!" Jon crowed. "I won't be the only one living with that mental image the rest of my life!"

The traffic was steady and just above the speed limit once they made it into the areas where there were so few people that cell phone towers didn't exist anymore. The highway was full of semi-trucks who seemed to be the best drivers of anyone on the highway. They didn't drive like dicks; they knew before you did that you wanted to pass them, and they got out of your way.

As they drove past an offramp in the middle of nowhere Jon gave a dramatic gasp. "No. Way. That store cannot possibly be called _Kum and Go_. In _Loveland_ , Iowa."

"What?" Zach looked up to watch as they passed an exit sign advertising the nearest gas stations. Sure enough, it really was called _Kum and Go_.

"That can't be real."

"Do you think they know how awful that is?"

"You're going to pull over, right?" Zach asked.

"Duh," he said, getting over into the right lane. "This may be the best name for the _entire drive_. Nothing will top this."

It was a classy gas station, as far as weirdly-named convenience stores go. Everything was clean and it was fairly large, with an impressive alcohol cooler. The bored attendants were hidden away behind a raised oval counter in the middle of the store.

They stopped briefly before crossing the Nebraska border, in yet another forgettable small town, to grab dinner at a truck stop Subway. Jon had announced on their way back to the car that, after a night of little sleep, it was way past their bedtime. Once they were ensconced in a hotel room on the outskirts of Omaha, Jon ushered him away to the shower.

"I had planned on getting further than Omaha, but that popcorn truck thwarted me," Jon was saying, flat on the bed with the map spread out in front of him as Zach unpacked the toiletries and some pajamas. "I think we can probably make it to somewhere in southern Colorado tomorrow, maybe? Or we can take a break and hang out in Omaha for a day. I think this might be the biggest city we've been through since we left."

"Yeah, I can't believe I-80 doesn't hit Chicago."

"That would have been a good day trip."

"If you are willing to do a day trip here, I am pretty sure I saw a sign for a zoo down the road."

Jon looked up from the map to give Zach a curious face. "Zach... do you want to go see the baby animals?"

"Are you saying you _don't_ want to go see the baby animals?"

Smiling, he folded the map back up. "We can go to the zoo."

When he got out of the shower, Jon was still laid across the bed in a way that couldn't possibly be comfortable, with his head dangling upside-down off the side and most of the rest of his body still on the mattress. He looked thoughtful as he texted someone. Zach turned his own phone back on, and they end up flush together side-by-side and in opposite directions, both on their phones.

He looked through the backlog of kitten pictures from Chris and concerned questions from people who showed up to a canceled wedding when Jon let out a sound that sounded a lot like, "Eep!"

Zach sat up and peered over the edge of the bed, where Jon's face was flushed with blood from being upside-down for so long. "What's wrong?"

"If we're going to the zoo tomorrow, we'll be going through Colorado the day after."

"Is that... bad?"

"Vienna Teng is playing in Denver _that night_."

"Seriously? I love Vienna Teng."

Jon flailed a little as he pulled himself back upright on the bed. "Zach, we have to go."

There was no denying him when he made a face like that.


	4. Chapter 4

Sometime in the night, Jon had wound up curled against Zach's back, face pressed into his neck and a leg between his knees. So far on this trip, Zach had needed to adapt to a few different awkward situations. He thought he was doing well with sleeping with a person wrapped around him all squidlike and warm, not to mention Jon's need to touch _all_ the time. And having a mostly-useless phone because they were usually driving in the middle of nowhere was certainly trying his patience; but it was manageable, and he could more easily ignore the calls from Andrew that way. So there was a positive side to that too.

Waking up with an erection tenting his pajama pants was not something Zach was used to, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it, when Jon was pressed sleepily against him. Why now, of all times, did his body decide it was time for _that_?

After carefully rolling out of bed, Zach locked himself in the bathroom to take care of the situation. With the only thing separating him from an awkward moment with Jon being a thin wall of plaster, he didn't have the luxury of drawing this out, so he slipped his pants down and pulled roughly at his cock, trying to make it as quick and quiet as possible, before Jon woke up and wondered where he was.

The thought of Jon stumbling in with that happy flush on his cheeks and a sweet smile sent a jolt through his spine and, _oh_ , that's where this came from? Zach bit his lip as he came, _hard_ , to the memory of how nice it felt to just... hold him in the middle of that festival in Iowa, and how Jon had blushed and looked at him like... like he _liked_ him.

He slumped to the floor with a sigh, pulling at the toilet paper roll and cleaning himself off. His heart was racing, and he felt wired. The rush of an orgasm wasn't enough to calm him right now. He glared down in betrayal at his softening dick. You don't play fair, he thought. Things were going to get so weird with _this_ development. He hoped that he would have enough self-control around Jon that it wouldn't become a problem.

When he walked back into the room and saw Jon stretching sleepily in bed with his shirt riding up a little, it was like the universe had to remind him where those weird feelings came from.

He prayed that this start to his morning wouldn't become a regular occurrence. Thankfully, Jon remained oblivious. Zach was fairly assured that the awkwardness on his part was just paranoia.

They left the hotel early enough that, even after a stop for coffee and breakfast, they had to wait for the gates of the zoo to open. There weren't many people standing outside with them, but it was hot. One of the families waiting at the gates gave them a couple of spare water bottles, and they made idle chit-chat while waiting for the admissions box to open. When they bought their tickets, Jon suggested getting tickets to the zoo's IMAX theater in the afternoon as an escape from the heat, which Zach heartily agreed to.

Most of the animals were also just waking up when they managed their way inside. The butterfly enclosure was opening for the first time in weeks, and they walked in, flocked by beautifully-colored butterflies.

Jon was bouncing as they headed to Exhibition Madagascar, where there were lemurs roaming the same area people walked through.

"Are you this excited over the lemurs or are you just high on espresso?" Zach asked.

"Zach, they're cute!"

"They'll just hang around making faces at you with their creepy yellow eyes."

"They're not creepy! They're really nice! And you can pet them!"

"I'm not sure that's allowed."

"No, people on the internet said that if the lemurs come up to you, _you can pet them_."

"Well, if the internet says so..."

But Jon's smile fell when they made it to the Lemur Walk entrance and saw the sign that it was closed. A nearby attendant told them that they could still visit the old lemur enclosure further down the park, but Jon pouted and turned back away from the sign.

They made faces at the gorillas in the ape trail and when they made it to the big cat exhibit, Jon couldn't control his childish giggles at the tiger sprawled out in the heat, airing out its... area.

There were a few food carts set up on the pedestrian area. After a couple of hours of wandering, they bought ice cream cones and sat at a bench, soaking in the sun and watching families walk by.

They passed by a bird enclosure that advertised a feeding tour. Zach balked at the price of a popsicle stick covered in bird food, but Jon laughed him off and bought one for each of them and they went into the screened-in birdhouse.

The birds were wary of them at first, which the zookeeper said was because they were the first people in the exhibit for that morning. But after a few minutes of Jon cooing at them and hovering the food stick near the branches of their trees, the birds became more social and eventually lined up along their arms and hovered around the food sticks.

Jon looked unbelievably excited at the birds swarming them, like a child who just learned that leaving a tooth under your pillow brings in tooth fairy money. His face was completely lit up.

Several of the birds sat perched on Zach's shoulder, which had him concerned, especially when he heard Jon choke back a laugh. He didn't have to look to know that a bird was relieving itself on his shirt. He tried to take it in stride – it's a bird in a zoo, it doesn't know better, this probably happens all the time just like at the shelter – but the look on Jon's face was making it difficult.

"You think this is funny?"

Jon was biting his lip, obviously trying to keep from laughing, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. "I'm sorry," he said tightly. He brought up the hand holding the bird food to cover a smile. "It's not funny, but..."

He lunged at Jon, dropping his food stick and startling the birds away. "No!" Jon shrieked, trying to duck away, but Zach was too quick for him. He wrapped him in a relentless hug, pressing his stained shirt against Jon's.

"What! You want to hug _all the time_ ," Zach whined, squeezing hard against Jon's side, angling to smudge the poop onto his shoulder. "What's so different about now?"

"Oh, so now hugging is cool? That's the angle you're going for, here?" He sounded torn between laughing and sulking.

They stood awkwardly in the budgie cage, surrounded by chirping birds and the bored teenage zookeeper.

"I hate you," Jon pouted when Zach finally let go. He pulled at his shirt to survey the damage. "I feel so betrayed. All I do is hug out of the goodness of my heart, and you turn it back on me."

The budgie caretaker handed them some wet wipes, which were ultimately ineffective and only served to smudge the stains even worse. They tossed their feed sticks into a bin before leaving the habitat and heading to the otter tank across the walkway.

Jon was still trying to wipe the stain in his shirt when Zach sat next to him and offered a water bottle.

"It's hot. We have those IMAX tickets," Jon said between gulps of the water. "Let's go watch that tornado thing they're playing."

The zoo was starting to fill with more people as they made their way to the screening. Zach was starting to suspect he was a little sunburned, because the coldness of the theater was a little uncomfortable. He was almost glad to walk back into the sticky Midwest heat once the movie was over, and even more thankful that Jon suggested they leave the zoo now that it was overflowing with summer camp groups.

 

They meandered downtown, peering into shops and restaurants. It was early in the afternoon, so when they stepped inside Spaghetti Works for a late lunch, there were only a handful of patrons in the restaurant. The host led them to a cozy table with a red plaid printed tablecloth and rickety chairs.

"The special today is creamy tomato and basil soup, and the spinach and artichoke spread with foccacia bread," he said as he set their menus on the table.

Jon's eyes widened. "That sounds _amazing_."

They ordered – fettuccine alfredo for Jon and a bowl of mushroom and feta-stuffed ravioli for Zach – and the host brought them back a basket of bread and a surprisingly large container of artichoke dip.

Zach's resolve started crumbling when Jon made a profoundly obscene face while taking a bite of the bread. "Oh, wow. You have to try this," he said, pushing the bowl across the table.

Zach picked off a piece and swiped it through the artichoke spread. It was decadent. Soft and warm and drenched in butter, the cheese and spices slightly crisp on the crust.

Their entrees came out soon after, and while it wasn't the fanciest of meals, the restaurant was homey, and lunch left them feeling full as they wandered around the block to the little hole-in-the-wall bookshop Zach had spotted before they had lunch.

Walking in, they were bombarded by towering bookcases overflowing with battered paperbacks. The smell of moldy old books was Zach's happy place. They walked through all of the sections until they reached the cases full of their reading material of choice. Zach sat cross-legged in the middle of an aisle, surrounded by boxes of skinny hardback picture books. Down the row, he could see Jon crouched next to a box full of pulpy mystery novels.

He relaxed into the familiar feeling of sitting in a used bookstore, reading the inscriptions of old children's books. He couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon.

Jon eventually wandered over with his stack of mystery novels that looked like a breeze would break their spies. He plopped himself down next to Zach and leaned against one of the many boxes strewn across the floor. Together, they sorted through the books in the boxes and shifted them into the shelves.

" _The Earth, My Butt, And Other Big Round Things_ ," Jon read from a young adult chapter book title on the shelf above Zach's head. "Wow, story of my life."

"Right? Your ass is pretty out-of-this-world."

Jon blushed for a moment before his eyes narrowed. Zach plucked the sunglasses nestled in his hair and put them on with a serious face, and Jon smacked his arm. "I can't believe you were giving me crap for liking CSI and you just Caruso punned my _butt_."

"You're not proud?"

"Out of this world," he muttered, shaking his head. "First you con me into cuddles so you can get bird poop on me, and now you make fun of me and my love for David Caruso. You are dead to me." To prove it, he opened up the book and started reading, blocking Zach from making eye contact.

They sat on the threadbare carpet in the middle of the children's books, perusing the musty boxes and dusty shelves for what felt like hours, showing off a book whenever they found something of interest.

They were trying to determine why some of the series novels had different-colored dot stickers on the bottoms of their spines – Jon thought it marked when they came in, Zach thought it was an indicator of books listed online, but the shelver at the end of the row told them that they came in that way.

There was a corner of the store full of boxes that the store had just received, a mixed bag of all kinds of different titles. Jon immediately latched onto a bright pink monstrosity called _The Cuddle Sutra_ , and Zach found several years' worth of McSweeney's. One of the boxes had a hidden stash of campy-covered romance paperbacks, which Jon took a little too much glee out of sorting through.

"Look at this," Jon hissed, shoving the book under Zach's nose, where he saw a ghastly cover insert featuring a raven-haired, _naked_ Fabio, standing in a field of wheat behind a redheaded woman with bad makeup and what could only be described as a ripped bodice. The sky behind them looked like something out of a Lisa Frank sticker booklet, and Zach was pretty sure by the way Fabio was clutching the fair maiden's arms, he was having sex with her armpit.

"His nipples are like teacup saucers," he said.

Jon laughed so hard he dropped the book, and Zach couldn't help but join in, his eyes fixed on Jon's bright, smiling face.

A heartbeat later, he held up another cover featuring a naked Fabio, this time with a naked woman – the same model, even, and the book was written by the same author – who was wrapped in yards of white fur. There was a huge sword taking up a corner of the page, which Jon insisted with a grin was a metaphor for something.

"I don't think you need metaphors with this cover," Zach said. "They're already naked."

"Yeah, but it's a sword with a snake wrapped around it. That's double the phallic imagery." He dug around through the box to find more books. "Johanna Lindsey, we need to talk about your love for naked Fabio on your book covers."

"Well, I mean, he is the _Man of My Dreams_."

Jon cringed. "Nooo, thank you." He opened up one of the books, and it must have been a magical gift he had, because _of course_ he found the porn immediately. "Oh, this is the most awkward sex ever."

"Please, not again."

"But it's so awkward and funny. I mean," his voice went low. " _He thrust once, twice, then was still again._ And then a few paragraphs down, he says to her, _"In all fairness, at least owe you a climax!"_ It's not just awkward, he is a lousy lay! And then the next page, he smashes his fist through a wall and shatters all his liquor bottles. Some man of my dreams. This guy is crazy."

A few minutes later, he was partway through the one with the penis-snake-sword. "Zach, you have to see this – I am going to buy this and you are going to read it because it is _ridiculous_. She's an anthropologist and she finds this sword and it's cursed, right? And this _Viking_ guy time-travels to 1995, kidnaps her, and then time-travels _back_ and keeps her prisoner. But then she falls in love with him and finds out that in order to free him from the curse, they can never be together, and – wow this is _so bad_."

"Why do you keep reading it?"

" _I can't stop_. It's like crack." He leaned his head against Zach's shoulder. "Help. Stop me before I pay money for these."

Zach picked up another paperback in the box and knew with a single glance at the cover and Jon snickering at the books in his lap, that he was only going to encourage this purchase. "Jon, you need to buy this one, if nothing else. It was _written_ by Fabio."

"Why did you say that?" He smiled, taking the book. "There's a _poster_ inside. What _is_ this?"

Zach stood up to stretch out the kinks in his back from being hunched over the books for what felt like hours, suddenly overcome by a wave of exhaustion. He tried to keep his yawning in check as they swapped campy fantasy novels and first-edition Judy Blume books back and forth, but Jon caught him and gave him a concerned look.

"I'm just tired," Zach said, rubbing at his face, starting to itch with sunburn. He looked at his growing pile of chapter books and decided it was time to start paring it down to something he could carry out of the store.

"You're probably sunsick," Jon hummed as he fingered the stack of books they'd been hoarding to the side and kept reading his trashy Fabio book.

"That's not a thing."

"Yes it is." He pressed a palm to Zach's forehead. "It's heat exhaustion. Let's get you back to the hotel."

The man behind the counter gave them a curious look when Jon waltzed up to the register, beaming and clutching a series of gruesome true crime novels, all of the books with naked Fabio on the cover, and _The Cuddle Sutra_. But Jon's lack of concern was infectious, and Zach found himself not caring as the clerk eyed the two of them. He walked out the store feeling more light-hearted than he had in weeks.

The air conditioning made the car feel like Antarctica; sharp, freezing gusts in his face that were nearly unbearable compared to the cloud of cold in the theater. He was huddled in the seat with the vents turned away and the ugly blanket in his lap. When they made it back to the hotel room, Jon went straight to the shower, claiming he deserved it more since Zach had intentionally covered his shirt in bird poop. Zach changed into a worn tank top and burritoed himself with the blanket in bed.

He flipped through the channels and kept count of the ones playing some form of _Law & Order_ (five) until he landed on Ion playing a marathon of _Criminal Minds_. He was resting his eyes in the awkward stage between being half-asleep and mostly awake, when Jon came out of the bathroom and curled around his back.

"So touchy," he whined into the blanket.

"Oh, I see," Jon huffed against his neck. "Cuddling is only acceptable when you have an ulterior motive."

"I can't believe you're still mad about that."

"I know, right? It happened like, all of four hours ago."

"Seriously," Zach said, hiding a smile in the bed. "You need to let go of these grudges."

The sunburn on his face was starting to set in and irritate his skin, so he headed to the bathroom to shower. Once he was back and settled into bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, Zach felt the bed dip when Jon rolled over to pick up the books he'd brought into the room and set on the bedside table. He nudged Zach to scoot and huddled closer in the bed, worming them both back under the blanket.

Jon flipped through _Cuddle Sutra_ and Zach looked down at their linked arms and Jon's head nestled against his shoulder.

"This isn't in here," he said after they'd gone through the chapter on cuddling in bed.

"That's because we're advanced cuddlers. This is not a position for amateurs."

They spent a few minutes flipping through the book and eventually maneuvered around the queen mattress awkwardly until Zach's head was pillowed in the center of Jon's torso, curled around his side with their legs tangled together. Two Pillows was definitely better than the Smother Zach So He Can't Breathe position that Jon seemed to be so fond of in sleep.

Jon's fingers pressed warmly against his scalp, starting up the scritches that Zach was glad would continue. "We'll make a cuddle slut out of you yet."


	5. Chapter 5

The sun was starting to come up, but Zach didn't want to wake up enough to get out of bed. He moaned and curled into the warm sheets, pulling Jon further into the blanket with him. Jon shifted a little behind him, trying to free the arm he had trapped under Zach. His breath was hot and moist against Zach's ear when he said, "C'mon sleepyhead, let go. Time to wake up"

"Don't care," Zach croaked. "More sleep."

Jon sighed and re-settled under the blanket. "Five minutes," he promised before burying his head between Zach's neck and the pillow again. They stayed cuddled under the blanket for another hour, and Zach fell in and out of sleep again a few times until Jon started moving away more insistently.

He whined, blindly reaching out and smacking Jon in the back.

"Hey, you," Jon chided, taking hold of Zach's wrist. "We have a schedule to stick to today, so we really do need to get going."

Zach pulled back again, accidentally yanking Jon down halfway on top of him. At least he didn't wake up with a boner this morning, otherwise this could have been a lot more awkward. Their faces were dangerously close, and Zach could feel his cheeks heating up. Jon didn't move for a long moment, his eyes darting all over Zach's face. He licked his lips before opening his mouth to talk, and Zach started to worry that his missing erection would make an appearance after all.

"If you want to stay cuddled in bed all morning tomorrow, that is fine, but I am not missing Vienna Teng today. We're already on a late start." He gave Zach's arm another light squeeze and then rolled off the bed.

"Why are you so cheery this morning?" Zach moaned. "Did you sneak some coffee?"

"No, but if I don't get some soon, I will probably kill you."

"I'll never understand how you were a successful barista--"

"Because I'm pretty."

"--at six AM when you are like, the opposite of a morning person."

"I was surrounded by the drink of life at work. It was enough to get me by." He smacked at Zach's back. "C'mon, time to get up."

Zach was distracted as he packed his clothes and shower things from the last couple of days, constantly looking over at Jon. At one point he glimpsed him leaned over, pulling tightly at his bag. It was hard to keep his hands to himself, which was a novel feeling. He sat back and watched for a few seconds, just admiring the view.

"I can almost _feel_ you checking out my ass right now, you know," Jon said over his shoulder.

Zach blushed, wondering if this was the first time he'd been caught, but Jon just smirked and zipped his bag the rest of the way.

He insisted on more McDonald's breakfast once they were on the road with the first decent cup of hotel coffee they'd had so far. Even though Zach was in charge of driving and he could have turned anywhere else, he still pulled into the drive-thru line that was so long it wrapped around the building and spilled into the street.

"You're going to make me fat," he whined, even as he ate a hash brown, when they were on the highway again.

"Good," Jon smiled. "Then I won't be alone in my fatness."

Jon was in an exceptionally good mood, and Zach couldn't help but let it flow over him, too. They spent the morning singing along to the trashy pop music on the radio. Jon had his feet up on the dashboard, and they put their hands out the windows, singing as loud as they could as they drove down the highway. When they reached an area where they could pick up more than one pop station, Zach found that all three of them had a habit of playing the same songs at the same time. It started with the dreaded Katy Perry song he couldn't escape with Jon's iPod, and then turned into a triple-play of Miley Cyrus.

"I identify with this song too much," Jon laughed when they both started singing along. Zach shook his head and Jon just said, "You can't judge, you know all the words."

He reached over and turned the radio up, singing, " _Yeaaaaaah, it's a party in the U.S.A._ " The smile Jon gave him made him almost start to enjoy listening to Miley Cyrus.

The morning passed by so fast Zach hardly noticed it was nearing lunch time. After leaving another fancy Panera rest stop in Colorado, Jon stopped on one of the stations playing Adam Lambert, and things started to get less innocently fun and more uncomfortably arousing. Oh, how much did he want to let Jon entertain him 'til he screamed.

" _I bet you thought I was soft and sweet, you thought an angel swept you off your feet._ "

"This is borderline pornographic," Zach interrupted. He was quickly becoming more turned on than he really wanted to be while driving, and it needed to stop before he had to pull over. "I veto Adam Lambert sing-alongs."

Jon gave him a lazy smile. "Zach, do you have a crush on Adam Lambert?"

"No," he said sternly. They looked at each other for a second before Jon bit his lip and blushed, looking away and thankfully refraining from singing the rest of the song.

The rest of the music they cycled through on the different stations were more upbeat and slightly tamer. Zach liked the trend in songs about dancing for dancing's sake, even if some of them seemed to be about strippers.

" _Loaf 'n Jug_!" Jon pointed at the sign as they drove near an offramp closer to Denver.

"Already on it," Zach said, signaling to merge into the right lane so they could hit the exit to the gas station. The coffee wasn't any better than at any of the other gas stations, and they didn't have travel mugs, but they did have ceramic coffee mugs in the shape of both a jug of milk and a loaf of bread, which made Jon even happier.

Half an hour later, he announced, "Beer Barn!"

"Seriously? Another one? Is this going to be another Ohio? Colorado is like a weird gas station _goldmine._ "

"Today is officially the best day ever," Jon beamed.

It got even better because when they went in to pay for their gas, the attendant told them they'd won a $250 gas card. Jon looked like he'd just won the lottery, and when they excitedly got back to the car, he pulled out his phone and started calculating how much further they had to drive and how many miles per gallon his car averaged. When he determined that they might not have to pay for gas again until they were nearly back home, he was awestruck. It took all of Zach's self-control to keep from grabbing his happy face and kissing him right there.

Zach felt ridiculous. He was acting like a teenager, flailing inside over a _boy_. It was unnerving, how easily he fell under Jon's spell. He couldn't remember ever feeling so happy to just be around someone.

 

They made it into Denver early enough to get to The Walnut Room in time for doors to open for the show. The venue was so cozy. The bartender-slash-ticketmaster gladly gave them discounted tickets – further cementing this day as the best day ever – and directed them to the area they could sit. There were small circular tables with shrunken bar stools around them, and clean, well-designed happy hour menus.

They pored over the list of pizzas and appetizers before splitting a pizza covered in tomatoes and huge chunks of garlic and chopped basil. "How do we keep lucking out with amazing food?" Zach asked after the second slice. "This pizza is like, the best thing I've eaten in weeks."

"Um, you mean second-best thing," Jon said, covering his mouth somewhat politely, but not hiding his stuffed cheeks. "After breakfast."

"Yeah, you have this weird idea in your head that forcing more and more McDonald's on me is going to make me like it as much as you."

"Just you wait," he winked. "One day you'll wake up and think, 'I could really go for some hash browns right now. Boy, am I glad that Jon is in my life to introduce me to such wonderful delicacies.'"

"I doubt my life will come to that, but I'll thank you when I end up in the hospital with a heart attack."

They polished off the small pizza and ordered a couple of beers while the staff started setting up the stage for the concert. "I am so excited," Jon whispered as the sound crew walked on stage and began testing the handful of instruments. "This is going to be _amazing_."

Even though Zach had thought about going to a live show when she was in Pittsburgh last year, he never got around to going to one. He'd heard about the intimacy and intensity of her shows, and Jon's enthusiasm was catching. Zach found himself grinning in excitement with him.

The crowd stood and applauded as she and her band mate Alex walked on stage. She gave the crowd a sweet glance and opened with _Blue Caravan_ , which Zach thought was a sad choice for starters.

Alex toyed with a both a bass and electric guitar for a few moments between songs, and Vienna launched into one of her stories. "It's weird being a piano player, playing with someone multi-instrumental like Alex. Because I can't do that cool thing guitar players do, where they walk up to each other like, 'Yeaaah!' and sort of rock out together."

"We need to get you a keytar," Alex joked as he pulled up the bass and set up his loop pedal.

"So some of you may call this the version that should have been on the record in the first place," she said as Alex started setting up a bass line. "Some of you may call it a travesty."

They played a Reggae-tinged version of _The Tower_ , another sad song that was taking on a strange upbeat note with the melody Alex was playing for it.

A hipster girl in a tattered plaid dress and bright yellow tights – and no shoes – was standing near stage right, looking like she was having some sort of religious experience, waving and swaying on the floor. Her hair was wild around her face, and she was crying with what could be euphoria or agony. Zach never felt _that_ strongly about a song before. He loved _Gravity_ and hoped she would play it, but didn't expect to start going into some kind of fit.

When the song ended, the girl didn't stop her seizure, and Vienna segued into the rest of the setlist, which felt like it was catered specifically to him. Every song hit a nerve, and even the ones he wasn't all that excited about were enjoyable just as background noise for watching Jon react to the show. He was completely wrapped up in _Harbor_ , his eyes glazed with joy as he sat forward, his hands clasped together under his chin. He glanced over at Zach halfway through and whispered, "I love this song."

Zach scooted his chair over and leaned his head on Jon's shoulder. Jon unfolded and wrapped his arms tight around Zach's chest, and they sat nestled together for several songs.

At the end of _Gravity_ , Vienna pulled the microphone up a little to start telling stories and talking to the audience. While Alex was setting up for the next song, she said, "This is a song that was partially inspired by the idea of the unreliable narrator – the person telling the story doesn't actually have any idea what's going on. This particular person has fallen in love and doesn't quite want to admit it yet."

It was a song that Zach knew he'd heard at some point – he had all of Vienna's studio albums, but this wasn't one he played often.

" _But you had to come along, didn't you? Tear down the doors, throw open windows. Oh, if you knew just what a fool you have made me. So what do I do with this?_ "

He never really listened to this song all the way through before. It started to grow on him, and he paid more attention than he did when it was sandwiched between two of his favorites on the album. It grew into sweet melodies and quirky metaphors until Vienna started pounding out the heart of the song and Zach felt almost uncomfortable.

" _This feeling calls for everything I can't afford to know is possible now._ "

All he could focus on as the song softened for a moment was the feeling of Jon's fingers mindlessly rubbing little circles along his arms. And then the song picked up again. As it ended, he was left feeling hallowed-out and listless. The frantic, neurotic part of him wanted to pull away from Jon, too aware of Jon's presence and terrified that his emotions were suddenly transparent. But he couldn't bear to break contact, and that was almost as unsettling as his aching reaction to the song. Most of the rest of the concert flowed over him in a daze.

The crowd cheered when Vienna and Alex set the beat for _Grandmother Song_ , asking for everyone to get up and make noise with them. He snapped out of his funk when Jon gripped his hand and pulled him up to stand together, clapping gleefully with the crowd and looking over to give Zach a huge smile every so often. Everyone started shouting at the point in the song where she roared, " _all the good boys, honey, they're in grad school._ "

Zach was sure he looked crazy, smiling like crazy and flush with excitement when everyone cheered and screamed for an encore once she'd finished. Jon was bouncing excitedly beside him, squeezing almost too hard on his hand, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Vienna came back to the stage by herself and sat back at the piano, flickering along some of the keys. "I haven't done this in a few tours, and I haven't done any covers tonight, so I'm going to leave you with some Tori Amos. This is _1000 Oceans_."

With Jon's fingers still laced in his, it was the perfect end to the show.

 

Jon gushed about the concert excitedly on the drive through town to a hotel, shaking like a junkie with leftover nerves from the show. He was still chattering a mile a minute when they walked into the hotel lobby, and despite the clerk at the hotel insisting that the pool was closing for the night, Jon got that look in his eye that Zach recognized as a bad decision waiting to happen.

When they made it to their room Jon tossed their bags onto the bed, and threw the door open again. He walked down the hallway, throwing back a manic look, and Zach found it was becoming impossible to say no to him. He tried, he really did.

Trailing behind, Zach said as quietly as he could, "I know exactly what you're thinking, and--"

"What am I thinking?" Jon asked, sounding more innocent than he looked as they stood in the elevator.

"You're thinking that the pool isn't really closed."

"Well, yes, but I'm also thinking _it has a water slide_."

"Breaking into a hotel pool for a water slide is not --"

"Zach, why are you so afraid to have a little fun?"

Ouch, he thought. "That's not fair."

Jon grinned devilishly. The look on his face said he knew he had just won. "It's a water slide. A hundred-foot water slide. _We have to_."

And so Zach let himself be dragged to the entrance of the pool, which said **CLOSED** in big letters, but was still unlocked.

"We didn't even bring a change of clothes!"

Jon shrugged and pulled off his shirt. He chucked his shoes across the tiles and started unbuttoning his jeans. Zach was frozen in place, still fully-clothed as he watched Jon strip his jeans off and then leap into the pool. As he came back up with hair plastered all over his face, Jon shouted, "Oh, my gosh – it's _so cold_! You have to come in here so I'm not all by myself!"

He kicked his sandals off and walked over to the pool, sticking a hand in the water. "Yeahno, that's way too cold."

Jon splashed a wave of water at him. "Come _on_ , just get in here!"

Zach scooped a pathetic splash back, and they launched into an epic splash fight, with Zach sitting drenched at the edge of the pool and trying to do as much damage as he could with just his hands, and Jon flat on his back in the pool kicking at least three times as much water. When they called a truce, Zach looked down at his water-soaked clothes and said, "I'm going to drag like, half the pool back down the hall to our room."

"You're going to get even more wet when I pull you into the pool if you don't start taking it off," Jon said as he climbed out of the water.

It was an adventure getting Zach out of his clothes. His mind was on a loop of thinking of all the different ways this would be even more inappropriate – and much more welcome. He pushed Jon's hands away when they started unbuttoning the top of his jeans, insisting that he could do it himself, because he wasn't sure he could stay upright if Jon had a hand in getting him out of his pants.

They were both standing somewhat awkwardly in their underwear, and Jon insisted he just jump in. But when Zach looked back to the slide, Jon's eyes went wide and frenzied. The trip up the steps to the top of the slide was the perfect excuse to stare without being caught. Jon shrieked like a child as he whirled down the slide and flailed in the water. "Just do it, Zach!" he shouted from in the pool below. He looked like he was glowing in the dim, water-logged lights.

Zach took a deep breath and then pulled himself into the tube of the slide. It was terrifying at first, and then adrenaline took over, and it was such a rush, falling through the slide, feeling like he might be flung over the side at any second before he crashed into the water of the pool. Jon swam over to meet him as he came up for air. Zach was laughing so hard he thought he'd never stop.

"It's so cold!"

"I told you! You'll get used to it, you big baby," Jon laughed as he pushed Zach back under the water. "Slide again!"

"No way," Zach shook his head. "No more slide."

"Just one more time!" he pleaded. And that was all it took to get Zach to clamber back up the stairs again and go down the slide – this time together, which Zach insisted was a recipe for broken bones, but Jon just laughed it off. When they fell into the pool, they were so tangled up they had trouble getting back to the surface again, and Zach choked down a big gulp of cold, chlorine-filled water.

"Let's not do that again," Zach gasped, still coughing.

"Okay."

They were hovering in the water so close they were almost touching. Jon's eyes glittered, and Zach felt flooded with happiness. He silently prayed that he wasn't misreading this moment and making a huge mistake before he leaned in a little more, closing the gap between them. He felt Jon gasp before hesitantly kissing him back, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. They were bobbing in the pool, gracelessly buoying themselves against each other and hardly kissing at all, just pressed tight against each other As soon as he started worrying that it might get too out of hand for someplace where they could easily be caught, he felt Jon pulling away and nudging at his shoulders.

"Zach, wait," Jon said, pushing back just a little.

Zach opened his eyes and his heart sank as he saw the look on Jon's face. He'd gotten it wrong after all.

The door from the lobby suddenly slammed open, taking their attention away from each other. "What the hell, guys!" The clerk shouted from the doorway. "The closed sign is not a _challenge_."

Mortified, Zach tore himself away from Jon and scrambled out of the water. He felt like he was on fire with shame. He didn't spare Jon another glance as they picked their clothes off the tile floor and walked past the furious hotel staff.

The elevator ride back up to their floor was silent and awkward, and was at least ten times longer than the ride down had been. Zach made a beeline for his bag as soon as they were inside, ripping open a pocket and pulling out the first clean clothes he could find. Jon came up behind him and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I'm sorry," Jon whispered, pulling back with a cautious downward glance.

"I... need dry clothes," Zach muttered almost as an afterthought, retreating into the bathroom and taking a deep breath. He stripped out of his pool-drenched boxers and changed into the pants and animal shelter t-shirt he'd dug out of his bag, and crouched on the tile floor of the bathroom, trying to steel himself for the inevitable talk Jon was cooking up in wait.

What was he thinking? Jon was just _nice_. And here Zach was, taking advantage of that and trying to make out with him? He'd never acted so stupid and desperate before.

When he came back into the room, he tried to avoid Jon's eyes from where he was perched on the edge of the bed, and hung his clothes over the back of a chair sitting at a tacky wooden desk in the corner.

"I know this is the last thing you want to do," Jon started calmly, and in what Zach imagined his Teacher Voice would sound like. "But we need to talk."

Zach nodded and sat himself on the other side of the bed, trying to put as much space between them as possible, like that could somehow make it easier. "I'm so sorry," he stammered. "That was... so inappropriate and --"

"Zach, calm down," Jon said, as if that wasn't the most useless suggestion possible.

"I can't believe I just – I left my fiancee of _six years_ four days ago, and now I'm... making out with someone in a pool?"

"That's actually kind of normal."

"For a crazy person," Zach scoffed. "Jon, I don't... I don't do things like this."

"I know."

"No, you don't. I mean, not really."

"I know you well enough to know that you're scared, and you're really freaked out." He took Zach's hand, and even as hopelessly as Zach wished that this meant Jon didn't hate him right now, he knew where this conversation was going, and no amount of hand-holding could make it better. "I know that you see now that you weren't happy before, and you maybe don't really know _why_ yet, and you want to feel... alive. And that's normal, there's nothing wrong with that."

"But dragging someone else into it? That's so selfish and... not okay, at all."

"I was here," he shrugged. "Before, you were afraid to feel anything at all, or to take any kind of risks, so at least you're getting past that. You didn't do anything wrong," he repeated, calm and serious and keeping steady eye contact, like this was standard practice for him, and Zach wondered how many other people had received this look before. "You're confused, and your life was just turned upside down – and I probably had a hand in that. I won't judge you for thinking you need someone as... a crutch; someone who can help you find your footing about leaving Andrew and starting your life over. And if you think that's something that's going to help you become a better person, I completely understand."

Forget other people's opinion of him, forget what Jon thought, he was disappointed in _himself_. "God, that makes me sound _awful_."

"It's not awful."

"It's using someone for--"

"No, Zach. It's not – it's not using. I know you don't want to trust anyone to help you through this. And you don't trust your own judgment with anyone right now, and... maybe it would be easier if you could just depend on someone else to do it for you, but you're kind of stuck in this loop of being afraid that everything is going to go wrong no matter what you do. You have to figure out what you need, and I'm not sure that's something I can help you with. I think you need to sort that out on your own."

Zach suspected this was a speech Jon gave all too often, and it made his heart break. "You have to give people the brush-off like this a lot, don't you?"

"Not really. This is actually a lot different from... I guess you could say I've been the Rebound Boyfriend a lot?" He gave an achingly self-deprecating smile that was more a grimace, and Zach never regretted anything as much as he regretted putting Jon in the position of explaining _this_. All of a sudden he became the same needy, overzealous guy Jon has to deal with all the time. "I can't be that for you. I can't be the nice, distracting summer fling, or, like, the Manic Pixie Dream Girl who makes everything sunshine and rainbows until you figure out what you really want and then move on."

He couldn't make eye contact anymore, disgusted and ashamed of himself. He hadn't been thinking about that and – that's exactly what he was doing. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be --"

"No, I am. That's not fair to you and I wasn't trying to... it was impulsive and stupid, and I'm _so sorry_."

Jon put a hand on his shoulder. "Stop. It's okay, I know that's not what you were trying to do. I didn't tell you to make you feel bad, Zach. And like I said, part of this _is_ my fault. This is... the only way I know how to be around people, and it does kind of lend itself to being that guide into better things. I'm nice, and I like making people happy, and so it happens. It happens a lot more than I'd like it to, and it's no one's _fault_. I'm sure that with you being so deprived of affection, me coming into your life and smothering you with it is just... I probably gave you a lot of mixed signals, and I _am_ sorry for that. I need you to know I will be here for you, but I can't be the buffer boyfriend. It's draining, and it's never worth it, and I can't deal with that kind of uncertainty anymore.

"And to be honest, I really don't think that's going to fix anything for you. Those guys I dated? They just wanted someone to pass the time with until they found someone better. You're _broken_ by Andrew, and you're confused, and you don't know what makes you happy yet." He took a deep breath, his face pinched with tiredness. He looked completely deflated compared to the unendingly exuberant person he'd been the last few days. It was taking so much out of him to talk like this. "But Zach, if you need _anything_ ; just to talk things through or a hug, or whatever? You _know_ you can come to me."

Zach nodded dumbly, less assured than he had been before they'd started talking.

The day had been so amazing, he felt high on life and Jon was right there with him, and everything seemed so easy. He didn't think about _anything_. The last few days he'd felt like he _was_ better, becoming that better person – and now it was like he was going backwards.

 

They silently turned down the bed and climbed in for sleep, but Jon didn't roll over to cuddle, and Zach knew better than to try and initiate it himself. Knowing why didn't make the pang in his chest feel any better. He laid in bed with the sheets cold around him, staring hard at Jon turned away. He considered waiting for a while and then touching him, just a little bit, but... no. He couldn't ask for that anymore.

He got back out of bed, picked up his phone, and walked out of their room and to the stairwell at the end of the hall. Sitting across one of the steps, he propped himself up against the wall and stared down at his phone. He had no idea what to do now. Looking at the texts from Chris, he prayed he was still awake.

Chris picked up before the first ring finished. "Hey, man. Everything okay?"

Zach considered the faint echo of Chris' voice through the line and heard a dog bark in the background. "Are you still at work?"

"Oh, yeah," Chris said quickly. "There's the foundation dinner next week and--"

"Shit, I completely forgot," Zach hissed.

"Dude, don't worry about it. I can hold down the fort here. You do what you gotta do."

"That's the thing," he muttered. "I don't know what I gotta do."

The creak of the office chair made him smile a little as he pictured Chris leaning back too far and nearly falling out of it, as he tended to do. "Tell Papa Chris all about it."

"That makes you sound like a creeper," he laughed, never more grateful for Chris' easy-going nature.

"Only to you. But seriously, what's up? Tell me everything. Oh, and should I keep Joe from murdering Andrew?"

"Don't let him kill Andrew," Zach sighed. "Murder won't make anything better."

"I disagree, but go on. Tell me about your hot compatriot. Joe harped on this fact a lot, by the way, you going home with some guy from the bar."

"It wasn't -- god, I'm going to kill Joe. It wasn't just a guy from the bar. It's Jonathan. From Starbucks."

"Wait, the kid with a big crush on you?"

"What?"

"Oh my god, this is priceless."

"Chris... he doesn't have a crush on me."

"Come on, Zach, even _I_ could see it. He was so sweet. Curly hair, kinda looked like he was perpetually fifteen years old, _always_ super nice to you?"

"He's just nice, Chris."

"Yeah, with a nice boner for you. How's that going?"

Zach wanted to go along with Chris' playful jokes, but the rejection was still too fresh. "I... kind of kissed him."

Chris choked on whatever he was drinking, and there was a long pause. Zach wondered if he was even still there, until he heard one of the shelter's cheap plastic cups being set down on a table. "So... that's new."

"Yeah. And he definitely doesn't have a crush on me."

"He shot you down?"

"That makes it sound like – no, he was nice about it. And he was right to do it. I was taking advantage of him."

"Rephrase," Chris interrupted. "That sounds a lot worse than it probably was. At least... I hope."

"He's so nice, Chris. He goes out of his way to be good to me because he knows I feel like shit, and the last couple of days, I just – I've been _so happy_. And I thought he liked me. I don't even know why, I--" He hunched over and drew his knees up as someone walked down the steps. When the door to the next floor down was shut, he said, "I've never been like this. I don't go around thinking, 'Oh, cute guy on the street just smiled at me, it must be true love!'"

"To be fair, he does like you."

He groaned. "He's just _nice_. That's all I have to go on, I don't know what I was _thinking_. And even if he liked me before, he definitely doesn't now. I'm just another desperate asshole who used him to make myself feel better about what a shitty person I am. I feel _so awful_. I don't know what to do."

"I really don't know what to tell you, man."

"Should I have called someone else?" he asked, suddenly unsure of this decision.

"No, of course not. You're my best friend, of course I want you to come to me if you need me. But we never really talked about this kind of thing before. I don't know what kind of advice to give you."

"What would you do?"

"Zach," he sighed heavily. "What I would do is very different from what you _should_ do."

"I've never felt like this before," he said honestly.

"Are you..." he trailed off. "I know it's only been a couple of days, and you're all weird about how you think _he_ feels about _you_ , but... are you in love with him?"

And wasn't that the question of the day? He had been so at ease with Jon before, and _happy_. He acted like an idiot whenever Jon _smiled_ at him, and he couldn't stop touching him. He was completely out of control of himself, but it felt so _good_. At least, it did before he ruined everything. Was there a checklist for knowing if you're in love with someone? "I have no idea. Do you think I am?"

Chris laughed. "That's something _you_ have to answer. What do I know? I thought you loved Andrew."

"I thought I did too. But this is so... I feel like a different person. It _hurts_. Not like it hurt with Andrew, this is like... I can't explain it. My chest aches and I really feel like I fucked up. I have no idea what I'm doing with myself anymore. I always thought people were just being hyperbolic when they talked about heartbreak, but I really do hurt inside."

"Wow. You... kind of sound like a different person. I don't think I've ever heard you like this over anyone before. Obviously you know more about what's going on than I do, but he doesn't sound like a bad guy. I'm assuming he's not deliberately jerking you around."

"He's not."

"I wish I had the right answer, I really do."

They lingered on the phone in silence for a few minutes. Zach didn't feel any better than when he'd first called Chris, but it was nice to just talk to someone.

"Wait, hang on--" Zach could hear doors opening and closing and the ruckus Chris walking through the cat room before the sound of kittens mewling drowned out everything else. "Hear that?"

"Yeah?"

"So... those are the _monster_ kittens that I keep sending you pictures of. They've been here four days and they're already fucking huge. They're like, these big, rolling balls of fluff."

"You want to take them all home, don't you?" Zach smiled a little.

"Yes," he rasped. "So does everyone else who comes in. They're so fucking cute. I don't have time for more kittens at home and Beau would kill me if I brought home _all of them_ , but shit, they're adorable."

"You should go home and sleep."

"You too. Good luck, man."

"I really need it," he sighed. He sat in the cold hallway for a long time before dragging himself back into the room and laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling until he couldn't think anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

If the day before had started off being the best of the trip, then this morning had to be the worst so far. Zach hadn't slept at all. He was almost grateful for the sun to start creeping in, because it meant Jon would finally wake up. But he couldn't bring himself to speak to Jon, and Jon didn't seem like he wanted to talk either. They silently packed their bags and went downstairs.

Jon gave the morning desk clerk a guilty look when they checked out, and Zach was afraid there was a note on their reservation about the pool incident. But the girl just gave the two of them a bored glance and swiped the credit card, wishing them a good morning.

He didn't even put up a fuss when Zach ordered a yogurt cup at McDonald's as they swung through for breakfast. He sped down the highway with pulsing, wordless dubstep playing on the car stereo, like he was trying to get the trip over as quickly as possible.

The lack of sleep wasn't doing Zach any favors, and neither was the sharp morning sunlight. His eyes burned with tiredness. He knew that sleeping in the car would be impossible, and after the first couple of hours on the road, he stopped trying. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine, and the thought of getting sick made him paranoid that he'd go into an exhaustion-induced hysteria before they could make it to their next stop.

"You look really tired," Jon said a couple of hours into the trip, when the headache was starting to hit its peak.

"I'm fine," he replied. "It's just a migraine."

"Do you want to lie down in the backseat? It's darker back there."

Zach shrugged.

When they pulled off the highway to refuel, he did consider curling up in the backseat of the car to nurse his headache into something less painful. He rifled through the back of the car, moving things into the trunk and looking for the ugly blanket Jon's mother had given them. But it was gone.

Jon came back from the station to find him upending their bags, trying desperately to find it.

"I think I forgot it in Omaha. I'm so sorry," he said, sagging against the car and feeling the edges of an anxiety attack closing in on him. He was going to have a meltdown in public, in front of strangers and in front of Jon, who didn't need another reason to think he was crazy.

"Don't worry about it," Jon kept sorting through things in the back of the car, not looking at him as he folded some shirts back into his own bag. They put all their things back, and he walked over to open the driver's side door. "It's not a big deal, Zach. It happens. If this is the only thing we lose on this trip, then we're still pretty well off."

That's not the only thing we lost, Zach thought bitterly.

"Zach, it's okay, really--" Jon looked frustrated and tired until their eyes met across the roof of the car and his face fell. "Oh my god, you look... really not good."

He wanted to brush it off, to say that he was _fine_ , because the last thing he wanted right now was for Jon to think he was losing it. He felt tears coming to his eyes, and all of the stress that had been building up all morning came rushing out in a string of word vomit, and he couldn't stop it. "I can't sleep, and I – I keep fucking everything up. I drag you into my drama, now you don't even want to _talk_ to me anymore. I can't even keep track of a _blanket_ that someone gave me because I'm a fuckup, and I feel like my brain is trying to claw its way out of my head, and of course I didn't bother to bring any Excedrin, and of course the gas station doesn't have any. I probably sound like I'm going crazy, and Jon, I really think I am."

He sagged, deflating in the parking lot. Jon came around to the other side of the car, his hands strong and warm on Zach's arms. He wanted to lean into the touch, but it wasn't a hug. It was probably the best he could hope for, now that Jon expected him to be pining and pathetic for the rest of the drive. He kept his eyes down tried to keep his breath steady, but he could feel tremors running through his arms. All of a sudden he was desperate for Jon to want him and to touch him and to tell him it would be okay, even if he didn't mean it.

"I don't know what to do anymore," he whispered, defeated. When he managed to pull his head up to meet Jon's eyes again, Jon just looked at him sadly, and ushered him into the backseat.

Because everything bad always happened in an unrelenting progression of worse, the air conditioning in the car died in the hottest part of the afternoon on their drive that day. Jon persisted in driving through it, and knowing that he wanted to get as far as possible, Zach didn't have the heart to stop him. He stayed hunched in the backseat, his head poorly cushioned on his duffel bag with a t-shirt over his eyes, hoping that he could keep from making himself sick.

Jon pulled into a truck stop at some point and bought an overpriced fleece blanket and donut pillow for Zach to lay on in the back of the car. It was a step up from laying on his bag with his toothbrush jabbing him in the ear, but he didn't feel any better.

They drove for another few hours through the dry heat of Utah, with the sun bearing down on the car and the heated steam from the highway billowing in through the windows. The only way it could possibly be any worse would have been if they were someplace humid and the heat was cloudy and sticky instead of dusty, dried-out air. The sun didn't seem to move for hours, and Zach couldn't tell how long they were driving anymore. He wanted to stop and lie down somewhere proper, but couldn't bear to say anything for fear of having another episode.

A wave of nausea took him by surprise and he jolted up in the seat, saying, "I'm going to throw up."

Jon looked alarmed, and Zach had barely grabbed hold of the door handle before the car was pulled over almost inhumanly fast. He stumbled out the door, falling to his knees on the ground, retching miserably. Jon came around from the other side, rubbing a hand up and down his back. The touch was soothing, and even though it felt forced, Zach couldn't help but lean into it.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Jon shushing as Zach hunched over and choked up more bile. He hated throwing up, and he hated being sick in front of anyone – and here was Jon, thinking he was all kinds of fucked up enough already. This probably wasn't helping matters any.

Once Zach stopped heaving and sat on the ground, Jon crouched next to him and asked, "Why didn't you say it was that bad?"

"It's a _migraine_ ," Zach cried. "It wasn't going to magically get better."

"I would have stopped for --"

"I know. But you wouldn't want to, so I didn't say anything."

"I wouldn't want--" he ripped himself away, standing tall and towering over Zach with hurt and anger in his eyes. Whatever reaction Zach was ready for, it wasn't this, and this was so much worse. "Of course I would want to stop if you're not feeling well! You just have to _tell me_ , and I'll pull off the road the second I can!"

"Please don't yell," Zach moaned, burying his face in his hands and falling back against the car, trying to hide from the sun and keep from crying.

"Do you really think that little of me?" Jon asked after a few minutes. He sounded tired. "That I care more about the driving schedule than I do about you?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into his palms. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Jon waited for a beat before saying, "That wasn't a no."

He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Jon that he thought the world of him. Of course Jon cared, even if Zach didn't really believe it or deserve it. He wanted to trust him so badly it hurt.

Eventually, he heard Jon suck in a deep, wavering breath and then pull away again, his sandals flopping across the pavement as he went to sit back in the car.

"I'm sorry," he said again. When he stood up, Jon was in the car, resting his forehead in one hand. Zach was just about to get back in himself when a big red truck pulled up next to them.

"Y'all need some help?" the bearded man asked, rolling down his window.

"We're fine," Jon yelled back. "Our air broke, so we're just taking a break."

"I've got a shop just a few miles down the road if you want me to take a look."

Jon agreed instantly, starting the car up again. They trailed behind the truck in silence, and when they got to the man's run-down mechanic shop, Zach dared to glance over at Jon again, who was tensely ignoring him.

"So what exactly is the problem you're having? You said your air's not working?" The man propped up the hood of the car. "Go ahead and start the engine," he said, coming around to the passenger-side door.

Jon turned the car back on and pushed in the button for the air. They both put their hands in front of vents. "It comes on, but it's just blowing hot air."

"'kay," he said. "So the switch is fine, the wires are probably good. Go ahead and kill the engine again." After Jon turned the car off, the man walked around to the front of the car, waving his oil rag around to try and cool the steam coming from the hot car.

He made idle chit-chat with them as he poked around inside the engine. His name was Avery, and he grew up just outside of Richfield, which was where they were currently. He lived in the house he was born in, with his wife and two kids. He told them if they wanted to play tourist once the car was fixed, they could go camping in Fishlake National Forest. His sister Alice inherited their aunt's inn a few years ago and it was the cheapest bed and breakfast in town, if they needed a place to stay. He'd owned the repair shop for ten years and was the best in town.

Zach wanted to be nice and listen, but his head was killing him, and he couldn't focus on someone talking. He sat in a dirty chair along the wall, holding his head in his hands, until Avery came around the back of the car, wiping his hands on the oil rags hanging out of the pockets of his pants.

"It looks like your air compressor clutch isn't engaging. Everything's fine, but the pulley's not turning. I'm thinking it might just be a blown fuse."

Zach and Jon just stared blankly at him.

"Sorry. Not car people, I get it. It's a quick fix, just a couple hours of tinkering, but I have to get home to the family soon, so I probably can't get it all fixed up until tomorrow," he was saying. "Alice's place is just a ways down, and I'd be happy to give you boys a ride down there so you have somewhere to stay for the night."

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Jon said. He looked wiped out from the day, and Zach couldn't help but think about how much of it was his own fault.

They all piled into the front seat of Avery's beaten old truck. He tried to relish the feeling of Jon pressed against him when they were in the truck driving to the bed and breakfast, hoarding the memory of just _feeling_ Jon beside him, but seeing how uncomfortable he was ruined any lingering pleasure Zach got out of touching him.

 

Alice was nice. She had a soft mom-like voice, and she wasn't overly friendly, as if she could feel the tension between Zach and Jon. She helped them haul their things out of the back of the truck and brought out a big pitcher of lemonade as she caught up with her brother. Zach and Jon sat awkwardly next to each other in the dining room, still not talking, before she pulled out some pie for Avery to take on the road. After apologizing for ignoring them, she gave them an abbreviated tour of the house and accompanying barn full of sheep and alpacas, before leading them upstairs to the rooms available.

"Y'all are the only ones here right now, so you have your pick of the rooms. The bathroom's in the middle of the hall, with the glass doorknob. There's plenty of towels and things in there if you want a shower, and there should be an extra toothbrush and things in the drawers under the sink if you don't have your own. Just make yourselves at home."

Zach felt irrationally jealous as Jon gave her a warm smile and touched her shoulder, saying, "Thank you, Alice," before he went into the room closest to him and shut the door behind him. The click of the doorknob was like a slap in the face. Jon couldn't even bear to be in the same room with him anymore.

She turned to Zach and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You doing okay, hon? You look like you're about to keel over."

"It's nothing," he said, picking up his bag again. "I've just had a migraine all day."

"Oh, honey," she sighed. "I've probably got something in the medicine cabinet for you, if you want."

Zach knew he shouldn't accept drugs from strangers, but right now he'd take anything that would calm his head down, or at least bring down his fever.

She sorted through some tubes of pills in the cabinet, pulling out a little canister of Percocet. "I don't have any Excedrin, but this should help some. Get some sleep, hun. You look like you need it."

He nodded and went into a room near the bathroom, just in case he felt sick again later in the night.

Zach had hoped that being in the bed by himself, he wouldn't be as starved for touch, that it would be easier to deal with Jon's distance if he wasn't even in the room to tempt him into cuddling. But the dark room felt even emptier and made him more lonely. It was weird; he'd been so jarred by the thought of sleeping with someone beside him before – it had taken him days to learn how to sleep with Jon wrapped around him – and now he couldn't sleep alone. He bunched up the coverlet behind him, leaning back into the bed, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't Jon.

The Percocet wasn't doing him any good, either. It dulled the piercing pain in his head to a constant throb, but it didn't help the nausea any. The nausea was probably worse, and he couldn't stop his mind from racing all over the place.

He got sick again, managing to make it to the bathroom across the hall. It was mostly water this time, since he couldn't keep any food down all day. He dry-heaved into the toilet again before sinking into the seat in misery.

"I think you need to go to a hospital," Jon said quietly from the doorway, shocking him so much he nearly fell backwards.

"It's just a migraine," he insisted, pressing the heel of his palm hard to the center of his forehead. The last thing he wanted was for Jon to keep looking at him with that awful, pitying look, as he got sick again.

"This is more than just a migraine. You're exhausted, and you haven't eaten--"

"I'm fine. I'm just tired, and my head hurts."

"Zach--"

"Can you just leave me alone, please?" He kicked at the door, throwing it shut. He hated people watching him be sick, and Jon had been around all day. It wasn't a good feeling. He was getting jumpy, like he was having a bad trip, and he wondered if that's really what was happening; if he was having a bad reaction to the painkillers, on top of an anxiety attack and a migraine and being the worst person in the world.

"I just wanted to help," he heard Jon say through the door.

When Zach looked up again, the door was pushed slightly ajar but Jon was gone. He sat on the tile for a few moments until he felt like he was done throwing up for the moment, and pulled himself up and flushed the toilet. As he dragged himself over to the sink, he was shocked at how terrible he looked. The bags under his eyes were deep and dark. His eyes were red with tiredness and the tears he'd been keeping in all day. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

He put his head under the sink and soaked in some cold water, trying to cool off the fever he'd been fighting all day. Remembering what Alice had said about spare toothbrushes, he pulled open some of the drawers to find one, hoping to scrape out the taste of bile from his mouth.

By the time he fell back into the bed in his room, the sheets had cooled off again. He tried to sleep. He wanted to sleep. He laid in bed for a while, but eventually stopped trying to force himself to sleep. At least now he had the drugs to excuse it. Giving up on sleeping at all, he walked down the stairs into the kitchen. Jon twitched when he walked in, but barely glanced up from the picked-over sandwich sitting to the side and the phone he was casually texting with.

Zach pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and poured some tea for himself. He watched Jon read for a few minutes before he said, "I'm sorry. You were just trying to be nice, and I shouldn't have slammed the door in your face."

Jon sighed, running his hands through his hair before he looked up at Zach. "You keep apologizing for the wrong things. I'm not mad at you for slamming a door. I'm really _hurt_ that you shut me out, that you don't trust me. I know you're stressed out, and I know that after Andrew, it can be hard to trust someone. I get it. But I'm trying _so hard_. I have been nothing but honest with you, and I have tried so much to show you that you _can_ trust me."

"I want to, Jon. I--"

"I know, sweetie." He reached over the table to hold Zach's hands in his own. "But you don't have any confidence in yourself to make the right choices, and you end up making the wrong ones... and then you take it out on me. And that's not fair."

He clamped down another apology, but he couldn't think of anything that would make this easier. He couldn't keep from thinking about how all he could do was make things worse. He wanted to show Jon that he wasn't crazy, that he could do... _better_. But he had no idea where to begin. "If it makes you feel better, I'm taking it out on myself more."

"That's exactly the problem, Zach. Even if I don't like it, I could understand taking out your frustration on me, because we're stuck in a small, enclosed space with nothing but each other. I'm an easy target." He looked down at the table again. "And then you say these things, and I don't want to believe that you hate yourself, but... I really worry about you. I wish you could trust me. I wish you could trust _yourself_. I know exactly why you're doing this. You're afraid that I'm living in fear of you having feelings for me, that I'm just waiting for you to lose control and do something awful like, god forbid, kiss me again."

Zach looked up to see Jon giving him a small smile, and squeezed his hand. His heart jumped in his chest, sparking a little flare of hope.

"I just feel like I'm walking on eggshells with you today. I do care about you, Zach, so much. I want you to be happy, and I want to be here for you. But I don't know how to do that anymore, and I'm afraid that you'll just throw it back in my face if I even try right now."

"I'm sorry," he said, looking down again.

"Stop being sorry and start trying to make it better." Jon walked over to Zach's side of the table and hugged him tight, and for a second, Zach felt like things might actually get better. He reached up and held onto the arms wrapped around his chest like an anchor. Jon pulled away a few seconds later and ran his hands through Zach's hair. "Try and get some sleep, okay?"

"I'll probably just go hug the toilet some more."

Jon sighed. "I really think you should see a doctor."

"I just need sleep."

"Promise me that if you still feel sick in the morning, you'll tell me, and you'll go to the doctor."

Zach nodded.

Jon smoothed back his hair and nuzzled the top of his head. "Let's get you to bed."

When they were standing in front of his room, Zach took a chance and asked, "Can you stay with me? Just... just for a few minutes."

"Of course," Jon ran a hand up his back and pinched his shoulder, giving him a gentle nudge into the bedroom.

Zach climbed back into the pile of sheets and Jon tucked him in like a child before he sat at the edge of the bed, petting Zach's hair. Zach was tempted to ask him to stay the whole night, but this could be enough. He needed to stop being dependent on Jon's cuddling to get through the night, so maybe he just needed to wean himself off of it.

He relaxed into the familiar feeling of Jon's hands in his hair.

"It's too bad I don't know any lullabies."

"Your mom never sang you lullabies?"

"Not like, normal ones. She'd sing me things from the radio, like Peter Gabriel or Kate Bush. She's not mad about the blanket, by the way. I talked to her earlier."

"I still feel really bad."

"Don't. She's making you a new one right now."

"Shut up," he smiled. "No she's not."

"She likes you, and she wants you to feel better. It's just her way. I mean, knowing how she crochets like a fiend, it'll probably be sitting at Jody's house by the time we get there. She's like a machine."

Jon started humming softly and Zach closed his eyes and gave in to the pull of sleep before the song was anywhere near finished.

Zach drifted in and out of sleep all through the night. At one point, he rolled over and bumped up against Jon, who'd fallen asleep half-sitting at the side of the bed. He thought about pulling him all the way under the covers, because there was no way anyone could be comfortable with their legs dangling off the side of the mattress. But he was afraid that waking him up would make him leave.

His heart ached as he gazed across the bed and realized that he'd ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him. No amount of distancing themselves the rest of the trip would take back how badly he had fallen for Jon. He wondered how long it would take him to get over this, or if he even would. It wasn't like with Andrew; even with the lingering guilt and despair over wasting six years of his life with someone so wrong for him, he still felt justified in being angry. But this was entirely his own fault. His life had spiraled out of his control, and he didn't know how to deal with it. And then he lashed out at Jon, who'd done nothing but stand by him through everything.

He reached over and sifted his fingers through Jon's curls, and nearly whimpered when Jon sighed and leaned into his touch. It took a while for him to fall asleep again, this time with an dull throb in his chest.


	7. Chapter 7

Zach woke up when what was left of the Percocet wore off. It was still fairly early in the morning, but Jon was gone. He left a bright green sticky note sitting on the side table, along with a glass of water and a couple of pills.

 _These are just ibuprofen, but I ran out to the supermarket with Alice to get some Excedrin.  
If you're feeling up to it, there's a plate of breakfast in the microwave. If you're not, call me so I can take you to the doctor! I mean it!_

He didn't feel as sick anymore, but he didn't want to get out of bed, either. He could deal with hunger later. He tossed back the pills and drank the entire glass of water before laying back down and closing his eyes. He didn't know how long he was asleep, but he woke up as Jon pressed a cold cloth to his forehead.

"I see you ignored the part about calling me," Jon said softly, patting the cloth along Zach's face.

He melted under the touch and tried to temper down the shame he felt at Jon's accusation. "Can we pretend I just didn't read it?"

Jon arched an eyebrow at him in answer. "Are you feeling okay for breakfast now, or do you want to sleep some more?"

"Yes."

Jon smiled a little. "No, you have to _pick_ so I know what kind of drugs to give you."

"Breakfast, I guess. I should probably get up, so we can get back on the road."

"Uh, we're not going anywhere until you're feeling better," he said as he shook out a couple of pills and handed them to Zach.

"I am feeling better."

"Not better enough," Jon insisted

"I'm okay to drive."

"Zach..." he sighed, sitting back.

"If I just... It's better if I have something to focus on, like driving. I'll be fine once I take an Excedrin, I swear."

"No, you won't. You know you won't. Stop..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know what you're doing. You want to go so that you can prove to yourself that you're fine."

"I'm really okay."

"I talked to Chris," he said, looking back up.

Zach's throat closed up and his heart seized in his chest. He was suddenly terrified of what Chris told him. "Why?"

"Because I was going to the store with Alice to pick up something to help your migraine, and I wanted to be sure I wasn't getting anything that would make it worse... He said that you get these stress headaches that last _days_?"

"Did he say anything else?" he asked, panicking.

"He's really worried about you, Zach. And so am I."

"It's just a migraine, I'll be okay."

"It's not just a migraine. You're letting everything bad eat away at you until you get _physically sick_. That's not _okay_." He swallowed and licked at his lips, looking distraught. Zach hated himself a little more for making Jon so upset. "I wish there was something I could do to make it easier, to make it better, but..."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Because I care about you!"

" _Why_?" Zach pressed.

"Why do I need a reason? I don't have an ulterior motive here, Zach. Why is it so hard to believe that I _care_?"

Because I don't deserve it, he thought. Because all I do is push you away.

"I can't talk to you like this. It's like you're not even listening to me, all you hear is what you think you've done wrong, and I can't – I'm sorry, but..." He fisted his hands in his hair before letting out an explosive sigh. He looked wrecked as he set the two bottles of pills on the bedside table and moved to stand in the doorway. "It actually hurts me to see you like this. You have no idea how frustrating this is, Zach. I can't help you if you keep fighting me."

"I didn't mean to--"

"I know. But I can't keep doing this if you're just going to push back." He sagged against the door frame, looking forlornly at the ground. "I don't want you to think I'm walking away from you, but I think maybe being cooped up together has made it worse, and we should have some alone time. Okay?"

Zach wanted to believe him, but it still felt like Jon _was_ walking away.

 

It took more effort than Zach would ever admit to -- and a good half hour of self-indulgent moping -- but he dragged himself downstairs to eat something for breakfast. After he made some fresh toast and reheated the plate in the microwave, he holed up in his room and laid in the bed with his iPod, listening to sad bastard music as if commiserating with overly emotional indie pop stars would somehow make it better.

He managed to avoid seeing Jon all day, and the separation became all he could think about. He needed some kind of distraction.

As if the universe could hear his thoughts, his phone started buzzing with a call from Chris. Sighing with relief, Zach curled up on the bed and started spilling about the morning.

"I think he has the right idea," Chris said when Zach finished. "Taking some time apart is good."

"It's not like I can just get away. We're pretty much stuck together."

"You have time now, don't you? You're staying in separate rooms. And I don't think this is a good option, but I'm going to throw it out there anyway: if you want me to fly you back home, I can."

Zach sighed. "Running is just... avoiding the problem."

"Good. That is a good way to think about it. And look, if you need to crash with me when you get back, you know you're always welcome. But for now, I do think you should stay where you are."

"It's so uncomfortable. He can't stand to be around me anymore."

"You pretty much turned him into your emotional punching bag."

Zach's heart sank. "Did he say that?"

"Not in those words."

"God, he really does hate me."

"He doesn't hate you, Zach. He's really freaked out because you kinda flew off the handle. What's he supposed to do?"

"Did you tell him... what I told you the other night?"

"No. I wouldn't betray your trust like that, and it wouldn't be fair to him if I said something anyway. You need to figure out how you really feel about him."

Zach sighed. "I have a pretty good idea."

"That's a good start."

"I don't know what to do about it," he said. "Well. I know _not_ to do anything about it."

"You guys were okay before, what was good about then?"

He thought over all the times he let go of all the bullshit that dragged him down and allowed himself to be drawn into Jon's exuberance. Jon never held back from anything, and now Zach was making him doubt everything, just like Zach had always felt. It didn't seem fair; he had so much love for life, and he never tried to contain it. When they hugged in the craft festival, whenJon read him lewd passages from books, when they goofed around in the zoo, when they held hands at the concert -- Jon was a constant, sunny presence that Zach just took for granted. He never let Jon know how much he appreciated him being there.

After a few hours of working himself up to talking to Jon again, he found the song that lulled him to sleep the night before. He became obsessed with it, playing it over and over.

 _I just know that something good is going to happen. And just saying it could even make it happen._

He told himself that he could at least _start_ to make this better. Just talking to Jon wasn't working. He had to start showing him that he could be a better person, and maybe he could convince himself, too.

He wandered downstairs a little later to find Jon standing out on the porch, leaning against one of the posts by the steps with a glass in his hand.

"I drove you to drink?"

It was meant to be a joke, but then he realized that there really was alcohol in the tumbler Jon was holding. Jon just stared out into the woods beyond the backyard of the house, his fingers still clenched tightly around the glass. "Did you take the pills I gave you?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he whispered. He finished the last of his drink and set the glass down on the porch railing, and when he straightened, Zach caught a glimpse of how miserable he looked.

Before he could stop himself, Zach stepped over and hugged him as hard as he could. Jon's arms came up around his neck just as tight, and he could feel the shuddering breaths Jon was taking.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry. I'm such an asshole."

"You're not an asshole. You..." Jon sighed. "I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything. You've already done so much. I just want you to be here with me."

"It's hard to tell, sometimes."

"I know I've been a little emotionally volatile."

Jon breathed a soft laugh. "That's one way of putting it."

"I don't mean to take it out on you." He closed his eyes and fell completely into the warmth of Jon's arms. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing."

He still wasn't sure what else to say. "Thank you."

Jon pulled back, looking confused. "For what?"

"For not giving up on me. I don't think I could have gotten through this without you."

Jon leaned back into his arms. They stood together on the porch for a while before Zach pulled back and gave him a hopeful smile. Jon's gaze softened and he cupped Zach's face, bringing their foreheads together. "I'm not going to give up on you that easily," he said, and Zach believed him.

He squeezed Zach's arms, stepped out of them to pick up his glass, and headed inside.

 

"Hey," Jon greeted as he walked through the doorway to Zach's room later in the evening. "Alice has a stash of take-out menus in the kitchen. I'm thinking of ordering in some Chinese for dinner. Do you want anything?"

Taking in his more relaxed stance, Zach followed him downstairs to call in dinner. He took another Excedrin before they settled in to eat on the couch, even though he didn't think he'd need it, and smiled as Jon found a _CSI: Miami_ marathon. He felt a lot better than earlier in the day, whether it was because of the painkillers or the easy quietness of just being with Jon. He suspected it was more of the latter. They didn't talk during the show, so he didn't have to watch his words, he could just relax and not worry about anything but how many bad puns Jon would be adding to his inventory.

When they walked back into the living room after putting the containers away, Jon touched the middle of Zach's back, startling him. "You've been really quiet," Jon said, rubbing his shoulders. "You doing okay?"

Zach nodded. "Still a little tired."

He leaned back and felt an arm come around him as they sank back into the couch. He was dozing off a little in Jon's loose embrace when his phone buzzed precariously at the edge of the coffee table. Zach watched as the very last name he wanted see flashed on the screen.

Jon rubbed at the sudden tension in his arms. "You don't have to answer."

"Yes, I do," Zach said decisively.

"Are you sure?"

No, Zach really wasn't sure. He didn't want to do this, but it was time. He'd avoided Andrew long enough. And shouldn't he be taking these big steps and facing his fears? He sat forward and took a deep, calming breath. And another. Anything to make this bearable.

Jon laced their fingers together, and that was good. He could ground himself with the happy feeling of Jon's presence, with knowing that he wasn't going anywhere.

Zach nodded. "I need to do this." He picked up the call.

"Oh," Andrew said immediately. "I really wasn't expecting you to answer."

Zach chewed on his lip. He wasn't sure what to say in return. Clamming up, he looked up at Jon, who was stroking his thumb across the back of Zach's hand in support.

"So... I'm sorry."

Sighing, Zach rolled his eyes. "Okay."

"That's... I mean, Zach, I'm not the only one to blame here."

Zach jumped when Jon's hand clenched painfully around his fingers, and he looked up to see anger flare up in Jon's eyes. It was alarming; he looked like he was ready to snatch the phone out of Zach's hand and give Andrew a piece of his mind. But it was also exhilarating, knowing that Jon was angry _for_ him and not _at_ him. Zach cleared his throat and squeezed back. "I don't think I have anything to apologize for."

"Seriously? Zach, you... _you ran off_ the night before our wedding. Not to mention your sudden case of pyromania in our house."

Oh. Right. There was that. "That may not have been... the most mature way to handle things. But I'm not sorry, and I'm not going to apologize."

Andrew sighed through the phone. "I guess that's fair. Can I just say I'm _really not happy_ that you took it out on me like that, and then left me to deal with the fallout. What was I supposed to say to people asking _me_ why you ran off?"

"Um, the truth? That you're a cheating asshole?"

"Really," Andrew deadpanned. "That's what you would have said. If you were me."

"No, because I wouldn't have done it in the first place!" He tried to keep his calm, but it was hard. He had so much pent-up anger at Andrew, he couldn't contain it anymore. He didn't _want_ to keep it inside anymore. "God, Andrew, what were you _thinking_?"

"I wasn't expecting you to find out like that!"

"No, you were going to _marry me_ while fucking around behind my back! How long was this going on?"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that?"

"I think that's probably answer enough," he spat, starting to shake with frustration. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I think... I think part of me always wanted to get caught, to see if you would notice. And, well, then you did."

"I just wish you'd told me. It doesn't matter that you would rather be with David, I don't care about that--"

"But you should!"

"Why?"

"Because it's a sign that something's broken with us!"

"No, Andrew... What's broken is that you were unhappy and instead of telling me so we could _fix it_ , you went behind my back and started seeing someone else. I mean, if you really needed to have a lot of sex with a bunch of other people, then fine. It would have been nice to know that _before we started making a life together_..." For the first time, Zach actually believed everything he was saying. This wasn't his fault. Sure, he had made a mistake in choosing Andrew, but now he knew, and it felt so good to know that he didn't have to blame _himself_. "You lied to me. _You_ did this. _You're_ what was broken."

"You really never noticed?"

"I'm sorry if I gave you the benefit of the doubt and assumed you weren't out to be the world's biggest asshole."

"That's a little dramatic--"

"You have no idea what this did to me, Andrew. I gave you _everything_ ," he cried. "And I never questioned that. I thought you would be there for me. I thought everything was _fine_ , and then to find out that it wasn't? And that you couldn't stand to _tell me_? I thought I did something wrong – I thought I did _everything_ wrong. You can't put the blame on me for _not noticing_ just because you were too much of a coward to own up to your own bullshit and deal with your problems like an _adult_."

The line was silent for a few long, awkward moments. "I don't know what to say to that."

"I don't even want to know why you did it," he sighed. "I don't care anymore. I have to start my life over and I don't know what I'm going to do now. But I know that you won't be there. And... I'm _glad_."

"I heard you found someone new anyway," Andrew said snappily, and Zach just _knew_ he was angling for this to turn into a big blowout that he could win.

He sighed, closing his eyes in frustration. "It's... complicated."

"Wait, are you serious? Joe wasn't just yanking my chain?"

"Oh, God – you got this from _Joe_?" he laughed. He almost wanted to go along with whatever crackpot story Joe gave Andrew.

"Are you really seeing someone else already? I thought he was trying to make me jealous, I didn't think you were the type, I mean, I never considered that you'd actually--" he paused, and sounded calmer when he continued. "But I guess that's fair."

 _Fair_? Zach stood up, letting go of Jon, and feeling inconsolably angry. "I'm not doing this to get even with you."

"Well, after me and David, I'm sure you think you deserve--"

"This isn't about _you_ , Andrew. Not everything is about you."

"I didn't say it was!"

"You don't have to! Acting like I'm doing this just to get back at you, just to get _even_?" He took a deep breath. "I'm trying to live my life. I had a plan before, and I was happy, and then you went and fucked it up!"

"You didn't have to _leave_."

"You didn't have to _make me_."

He could picture Andrew rolling his eyes the way he did whenever he was so convinced he was right that he was bored by the argument. "Are you happy now?"

"I'm getting there."

"Is he... nice?"

"It's not--" Zach suddenly wanted nothing more than to make Andrew jealous. To make him as angry as Zach had been. To make him see exactly what he'd lost, and... and what? Beg for Zach to take him back? Making Andrew jealous would only make Zach feel more vengeful, and that would make him just as petty. And it's not like Andrew was even paying enough attention to care anyway; the energy Zach put into trying to rile him up would just be wasted.

He should say that it had nothing to do with Jon, that it didn't matter if he was nicer or better or if he actually cared about how Zach felt. But that would be a lie. It had everything to do with Jon. Zach looked down at him sitting on the couch, following him with jubilant eyes and biting his lip to stop from smiling too much. Jon had been nothing but sweet and supportive and encouraging through _everything_. He kept Zach together when he felt like he couldn't do it himself anymore.

"It's none of your business," he sighed.

"I shouldn't have asked. You're right, it's none of my business. I don't really have any claim on you now."

Zach scoffed. "Andrew, you never had any _claim_ on me. I'm a _person_."

" _Okay_ ," he seemed irritated. "Look, I just wanted to call to tell you to ignore my mom's messages, because she wants you to pay for the wedding – I'm trying to convince her otherwise, because I know you won't do it, that you think this is my fault."

"This is your fault. This is _all_ your fault."

"I'm sorry, Zach. I'm sorry that I lied to you, and I'm sorry that I hurt you," Andrew sighed, but the apologies sounded practiced. Zach understood why Jon kept telling him to stop apologizing for everything. It never made anything better, it was just a band-aid covering up a problem that you're too lazy to bother fixing.

"That's not good enough," he said quietly. "I can hear it in your voice, that you just don't _care_."

"What do you want from me, Zach?"

 _Nothing!_ He wanted to yell. Nothing could make it better. He just wanted Andrew out of his life, to stop dragging him down. "I want the china," he blurted out. It was stupid, and petty, but if this was about being _fair_ then he deserved those dishes.

"Of course, I – yeah. Do you want me to... pack things for you?"

"No. Thank you. I can take care of my things. I won't be in town for at least another week, though."

"I won't touch anything. You _can_ trust me on that, Zach. And I'll talk to Lucy about your half of the condo. I mean, unless you... want it. I guess I can stay with someone until I find another place."

Zach knew exactly who he'd be staying with. The same person he probably fucked on all the furniture in their house. "I'd rather move."

There was a long, awkward pause before Andrew said, "Well, I just wanted to tell you that. And... yeah."

Zach let go of the breath he'd been holding. "Please don't call me again, unless it's an emergency."

"Okay," was all he said before he hung up. Zach stared blankly for a minute, with the phone still attached to his ear, until Jon stepped up to pull it away and turned it off. They looked at each other for a few seconds.

"I need a minute," Zach said.

Jon nodded and squeezed his hand again before heading into the kitchen.

 

He buried his face into one of the throw pillows and screamed for as loud and as long as he could until he sank into the couch in exhaustion. After a long moment, he heard Jon set something on the coffee table, and then hands were sliding up Zach's back.

"Come here."

Zach let himself be pulled into Jon's embrace. He was shaking with the effort of trying to keep calm, but the second he felt Jon's hands pressing strongly up and down his back, he felt something inside of himself let go, and he felt _okay_ for the first time in days. He elbowed around and shoved his arms between Jon and the cushions of the couch to clutch at him.

Jon held on even tighter. "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm such a mess."

"No, you're not. You did _so well_. That was a big step."

"That was the right thing to do," Zach said, unsure whether he was convincing Jon or himself.

"It was."

"I mean... I didn't even think about it. I couldn't stop being _angry_ at him, because he's such an asshole – how didn't I see it before?"

"You didn't want to. It was easier to hate yourself than it was to hate him."

"Is it okay that I don't hate him?"

"Sure. He's not worth hating. I mean, I still think he's a shitty person anyways," he laughed, and Zach joined in because it felt good to know that Andrew was what could incite Jon into swearing. "It felt good, though. Right?"

"God, it _did_. I can't believe I went off on him like that."

"Right? That was kind of hot," Jon chuckled against his ear, and Zach couldn't stop smiling as happiness blossomed warm in his chest. "You looked so confident, and so alive. It was amazing. Zach, I'm _so proud of you_ ," he said with a squeeze.

"I'm sorry," Zach said, pulling back to look Jon in the eye. "For what I said yesterday. I wasn't feeling well, and I was upset... but not at you. Never at you. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, and I am so sorry."

Jon looked away. "I wish you trusted me more."

"I do. And I'm trying to trust _me_ more. I think I'll always be afraid of doing the wrong thing."

"Stop thinking like that," he said, smoothing Zach's hair back. "It's a self-fulfilling prophecy; if you think you're going to make things worse, you will. You did really well getting past that just now."

"That's different. He's not _here_ , and I felt so justified yelling at him like that. I don't feel like I need his approval anymore. I don't care what he thinks about me _at all_. I mean, maybe I do, a little. Like, I don't want him to throw all my things out the window or sabotage my friendships, but beyond that... I just don't care."

"Do you care what I think about you?"

"Yes. And that terrifies me."

"Why?"

"Because... because you could leave me out here. Because you make me feel like I could be a better person and I don't know if I can live up to that. Because you see the good in everything, and sometimes I'm afraid I don't have any good in me anymore. I know," he said, stopping Jon before he could bring out his Teacher Voice. "I should feel validated by myself, and I shouldn't rely on you to make me feel better, but it's hard sometimes."

"But you're getting there, and I am so proud of you, Zach. And even just a few days ago, you were _great_. I miss the Zach who hugged me and didn't care that hundreds of people were around. I miss the Zach who gave me shit for reading books with Fabio on the cover and then helped me find the trashiest, Fabioest, heaving bosomiest romance novel in a dirty old bookstore. He was a lot of fun."

He smiled. "I like that Zach too."

"Since you think you need to hear it right now: I am not going to abandon you in the middle of nowhere. I know that this is just your insecurity talking, but I am a little offended that you think I would even consider that." Zach felt guilty and wanted to reassure him that it wasn't anything Jon had done, but Jon kept talking. "You _are_ a better person than you were before, even if you don't see it yet – and even if you were regressing a little for a minute there. And Zach... you have so much good in you. I wish that you knew that."

Jon leaned back, pulling Zach closer and stroking his spine with the same even pressure he had the first night they spent in the little hotel in Moline. Zach hardly noticed them rearranging so that Jon had them completely intertwined. He tried to think about which page this was in the _Cuddle Sutra_ , but it didn't even matter. It was so grounding; it had been so easy to fall into Jon's affection the last few days, and when he didn't have it, he became obsessed with having it again. For a second, he wondered how he would live without this when he went back home and Jon started going to camp. But there was no point getting worked up over it now. He still had at least a week left before they were home. He had time to enjoy _this_. He melted in the feeling of Jon wrapped around him, and they lingered on the couch in easy quietness.

"I know it's hard, having to start over from scratch," Jon was saying against his hair. "But it will get easier. I promise."

He closed his eyes, giving into the familiar feeling of Jon's hands on him. He didn't even realize he'd dozed off until Jon was shifting beneath him, trying to reach for the coffee table.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," he whispered. "I didn't want to wake you up, but my phone's ringing and I think it's Avery." He gently pushed Zach upright and untangled their legs so he could pick up his phone off the table. He toddled around the room chatting with Avery about the car, while Zach stretched and woke up a little more.

He saw two plates of pie on the table, covered in now-melted ice cream. He smiled as he realized that Jon had brought him celebratory pie for talking to Andrew.

How did he end up _here_ , halfway across the country with the nicest person in the world? What did he do to deserve this? Zach scooped up the plates and brought them into the kitchen. He couldn't stop smiling now. When he shuffled back into the living room, Jon was hanging up the phone.

"The car's ready whenever we are, so if you want, we can leave. Or we can stay another night or two."

"Let's stay a bit."

"Okay," Jon said, sitting back on the couch. They smiled at each other, and Zach still felt giddy that Jon was proud of him and didn't think he was crazy. "Are you hungry? There's more pie in the fridge."

"I think I'd rather sleep some more. That took a lot out of me."

"I'm not really tired, so I'm going to stay downstairs for a while. Go sleep, you need it."

He wanted to ask if Jon would stay with him for the night, but maybe it would be better to try sleeping on his own again.


	8. Chapter 8

Zach couldn't help but smile when he noticed Jon sleeping soundly next to him in the morning. All he wanted to do was roll over and bury himself in Jon's arms forever. So he did.

Jon hummed and rustled under the covers before opening bleary eyes to look at Zach. "Morning," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," Zach smiled over at him.

He hummed and burrowed a little into the blankets for a minute, his hands sleepy-tense and clenching in Zach's shirt before he stretched out and ran a hand through Zach's hair. "How did you sleep?"

"Good." He'd slept through the night again, finally, and Jon was doing amazing things to his scalp that was sending tingles all over. He felt like a brand new person.

"How's your head? Is your migraine better?"

"I think so. But I'm still kind of half-asleep, and you're doing _that_."

Jon chuckled and ruffled Zach's hair. "Go take a bath. The steam will help. I'll put the coffee on and find us some breakfast."

After Jon stumbled through the doorway, Zach rolled into the warm spot for a few more minutes, trying to muster up the energy to get out of bed. His body felt achy from sleeping for so long, but his head was so clear it made up for the stiffness of everything else -- including his neglected cock that was straining his pants and pining for Jon. When he got out of bed, he stretched, reaching as high as he could and feeling the bones in his back pop in relief. He picked out some clean clothes from his bag and went to start a bath.

As the tub was filling, he brushed his teeth and considered dealing with his morning wood, but he was still groggy and lethargic with sleep and didn't feel the desperate need to get off like he had the other morning he'd woken up with his cock pressing hard and insistent against his belly.

Alice had an array of bath products sitting along a shelf above the faucet, so he picked up a bath bomb and tossed it in as he sank into the hot water. When the bubbles started to rush to the rim of the tub, Zach shut the water off. He breathed in the steam and let the heat of the water soak into his bones. It was the most relaxed he'd felt in days, and even his erection was calming down.

The bath bomb smelled like artificial lavender, and he felt like going back to sleep in the tub, even though he knew he'd get all pruny.

"Hey," Jon called when he knocked on the bathroom door a little while later. "You okay in there? Want some coffee?"

"God, _yes_ ," Zach moaned and stretched in the water. The little bath bomb was still going off, making enough bubbles to let Zach have some modesty when Jon walked in.

He set down the two mugs they'd found in one of the gas stations in Colorado. "You get to pick: the loaf or the jug?"

Zach smiled and picked up the cup shaped like a loaf of bread. "These are ridiculous. This is not even a good shape for a coffee cup."

Jon sipped from his jug and propped himself against the counter. "The coffee's good, though. I was thinking," he said. "There's this little creek in the back of the house. We should pack up some things from the fridge and have a picnic. You could do with some fresh air after sleeping through most of the last couple of days."

"Sounds good," he said before heading back out the door.

Zach relaxed into the water, turning on the hot faucet again and sinking low in the tub.

When he got out of the bath, he was surprised at his reflection in the mirror. He looked... glowing. He was so refreshed and calm, it was just _nice_. He switched out some of his clothes and put on the comfiest t-shirt he'd packed and a pair of old worn jeans.

Jon was wrapping up little slices of fruits and veggies into the tacky gas station bag when Zach came back downstairs. "Is Alice going to be okay with us taking this stuff with us?" he asked when he saw the bag of food.

"Well, a lot of this is actually munchies I picked up at the grocery store yesterday. I wanted to re-pack our snack cooler so we could go without eating out every meal every day."

Zach nodded and helped him cut up more treats to take with them. Alice had set out a pitcher of iced tea and they filled a couple of thermoses. They hiked through the tall grass in the backyard, passing by Alice, who was shouting at the alpacas she had penned near the barn.

"They don't look very nice," Zach noted, watching her stumble back after one of the alpacas swerved its heavy neck against her side.

"Yeah, they're kind of mean, but they're nicer than llamas."

"What does your family have at the farm?"

"It's not very fancy, it's more of a hobby farm."

"You have a lot of space for a hobby farm."

"Well, both my parents worked when I was growing up, and now that my brother and I are both grown up, they have time to do more with it. Right now we just have some fruit and veggie gardens for ourselves. We can things and sell jam and stuff at the farmer's market, and we have some goats, but they don't bring in the kind of money that alpacas would. My mom's wanted them forever, though. Fiber people _love_ alpacas."

They walked down the hill with a fleece blanket Jon had pulled off the back of the couch trailing behind them, making their way to the rock-lined creek. He kept talking about the upkeep of the farm and all the plans his parents had for building it up as the two of them settled on the ground and started unpacking the snacks he'd bunched up in the bag.

"Why are you so interested in my family's farm?" he asked as he put together a little ham and cheese sandwich.

"Jon, your family is like, picture-perfect."

"What? No, we're not," Jon laughed. "No one's family is perfect. We disagree and fight and have all the same problems everyone's family has."

"Well, then you fake it really well. All I ever wanted was a family like that."

"You do have a family like that. Your brother is great, and Chris is your family too. And I'm sure your parents are wonderful. You and your mom are pretty close."

"Yeah."

"Do you get along with your dad?"

"I did, but... he died a long time ago."

"Oh, sweetie." Jon reached out and held onto Zach's hand. "I'm sorry."

"I was really young, I spent more time without him than with him. But it was tough on my mom. She struggled, sometimes."

"I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"It's not easy being a single parent. I don't know if I can take care of a family on my own like that. I don't have that kind of strength."

"I think you do," Jon said confidently. "But hopefully you won't have to find out."

"So, what are your big life plans? What are you going to do when you finish camp?" Zach asked.

"I'm not totally sure yet. I have connections with the school district near the college, but I was also thinking of teaching in one of the schools in my hometown. I dunno, there are a lot of options, but nothing really immediate. I'll probably have to sub for a few years before I can get anything permanent."

"That sucks."

"I knew that when I started. What about you? Are you going to stay at the shelter forever?"

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. We have to start looking for a new vet in the next year or so because our current doctor is leaving. I was tempted to go back to school for it when Abe said he was retiring, but..." he trailed off with a shrug.

"Would it be a big responsibility on top of the things you already do?"

"Yeah, but a lot of the things I do now could probably be allocated to other people."

"You should do it."

Zach laughed. "Just like that?"

"Why not? What's holding you back now? You can do anything you want, Zach. You just have to do it."

He nodded. "It's just a big change."

"Big changes can be good. You should make a list of the big changes you want to make, and the ones you have made, to remind yourself that you can do it."

"How are you always so positive?"

"Uh, my perfect family, obviously. And all those years I spent learning to nurture small children's minds."

Zach smiled. He knew Jon was going to be an amazing teacher; he was so full of joy and genuinely cared for everyone around him. It was getting harder and harder for Zach to ignore his hopeless infatuation with him.

"What was that?" Jon asked. "I know that face. You looked like you were going to say something but then you stopped yourself."

Zach looked over at him, his brow furrowed. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"When you blush like that, I know you're lying. Come on," he needled.

"I really wasn't going to say anything!"

"Well what were you thinking?"

He licked his lips, eyes darting across Jon's face. He wanted to pull him closer and kiss him breathless and never ever stop; that's what he was thinking. His heart was pounding in his chest and he couldn't control the waver in his voice as he softly said, "I really like you, Jon."

"Oh." Jon's face softened. He bit his lip and looked away for a second before meeting Zach's eyes again.

"I don't expect anything," Zach said quickly. "I know things are still kind of weird with us. I'm not going to go overboard or-- I don't know, do anything about it, I guess. There's a line, and I know better than to cross it."

"Zach, I..." He swallowed nervously. "I'm not sure what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. You wanted to know what I was thinking, and that was it."

Jon nodded, a faint flush coloring his cheeks as he tried to avoid eye contact.

"Are you... is that okay?" Zach asked. He was suddenly worried that he'd gone too far again, and made things worse between them.

"Of course it's okay," Jon breathed and gave him a small smile. "I just..."

The part of Zach's brain that made him anxious over everything was frantically filling in the end of Jon's sentence -- _I just don't think of you like that, I just don't know how to act around you anymore, I just can't talk to you without wondering if you're going to go too far_.

But Jon wasn't saying any of those things. He wasn't walking away. He wasn't making that awful look of pity Zach had come to expect from everyone. He didn't seem bothered at all, and that had to count for something. It filled Zach with a little bit of hope that even if Jon didn't have feelings for him, that he could get back home with at least his dignity still intact. And that made him fall for Jon just a little more.

 

While Jon was engrossed in another text message war with someone later in the evening, Zach stepped into the kitchen later on a quest for more sweet tea. He found Alice standing on a step stool considering the spice rack in a cupboard.

"I'm making muffins; want to help?" she asked over her shoulder when he picked up the pitcher beside her.

Zach snorted. "Not if you want to keep your kitchen."

"Aw," she smiled. "Not a cook?"

"I can cook but I can't bake to save my life. I've tried. I have this magical talent where everything burns on the outside but never cooks on the inside."

"That is magical!" She laughed. "How about you help with the parts that don't involve the oven? You can lick the bowl when we're done, but only if you help." She pulled down a few canisters of spices and a bottle of bourbon.

"Is this going to turn into an episode of My Drunk Kitchen?"

"Actually, this is going in the muffins. But if you want a drink, feel free."

He thought about it for a moment and decided a drink would be a _great_. That was one thing that was missing from the trip: comfort booze. Alice directed him to the cabinet to the right, and he pulled out a couple of tumblers to serve the two of them a nice shot.

When she set down her glass, she started sifting the flour and sugars together and reading through the instructions. Zach was put in charge of mashing the bananas, which he probably took a little too much glee in.

As Alice put together all the dry ingredients, Zach's hand stopped mid-air above the bowl of eggs when he reached the alcohol portion. He cleared his throat and held up the measuring spoons. "How generous is _a generous tablespoon_?"

"Hold the spoon over the mix and pour into the spoon. And if some spills over, then you're being generous."

"What if it's too much?"

Alice cocked an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "Unless you replace all the liquids with whiskey, you are not using too much. Trust me."

"I don't know what liquids we're replacing with whiskey, but I approve of whatever is happening," Jon said as he came into the kitchen.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" Alice squawked.

Jon looked affronted. "Zach, how long did it take before people stopped carding you? When does this injustice end?"

"With a baby face like yours?" Alice snickered. "You'll probably spend the rest of your life being carded. Be glad you look so young."

"I'd be more glad if I didn't get the stink-eye whenever I buy a drink," he whined as he sidled up next to Zach. "What are you doing? Besides replacing things with whiskey."

"We're making banana muffins."

"With whiskey," Jon pointed out.

"That, too."

"Is this all your doing?"

"Actually, he's not allowed to touch the oven. He's helping as much as is allowed." And with that, she nudged Zach away from the bowls and threw everything together in the stand mixer, blending their efforts into a delicious-smelling bowl of sweet, whiskeyed batter.

"Did you tell her about the suit, and now she won't let you play with fire?" Jon whispered.

"No," Zach laughed. "I'm just really bad with baking."

"And yet, here you are."

"It was cathartic, beating those bananas into mush--" Before Jon's smirk could fully form, Zach said, "Don't even make a banana-beating joke, I heard it as soon as I said it."

Jon mimed zipping his lips and then stole a fingerful of the batter.

When the muffins were in the oven, they all sat in the living room, Alice with a cross stitch of a peeping tom Santa Claus, and Jon and Zach on the couch watching another marathon of _CSI: Miami_. Alice let Zach take the muffins out a while later and set them on a rack to cool, but Jon was impatient. He kept darting over to the counter and poking at them.

"Stop it!"

"I want one!"

"But you're going to do something bad to the muffins. You'll break them!"

"Zach, you can't break muffins," Jon said seriously.

Eventually Jon's patience wore out and he pulled the hot muffins out of the tin and split his in half to smear butter all over the inside. Zach took his time pulling the paper off and staring down his muffin, sure that something was going to go wrong.

"You look so nervous," Jon said when he caught Zach's eye. "You really expect them to be bad, don't you?"

"I'm really awful with baking." He held his breath as Jon bit into the muffin.

"They're perfect," Jon said with a smile that softened his entire face and made Zach's heart do a little somersault. Maybe he was just being nice, but even if it was a lie, it was sincere enough to make Zach feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Zach took a bite of his own muffin, and Jon was right. They were perfect; hot and dense and so moist. He could taste all the spices they'd put in, and the whiskey only added to the explosion of flavors.

Zach's phone vibrated in his back pocket. Wiping his hands on the towel on the table, he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone.

When he saw the email header, he choked on his muffin, shocking Jon into pulling the phone out of his hand.

 _Andrew Fairfield has updated your relationship status,_ it read.

"You know what?" Zach said, picking up his muffin again. "I'm not going to be upset by this. I'm done being manipulated by him."

Jon nodded encouragingly, his cheeks stuffed with muffin.

"It's done. Like... that's it."

"You're through with him," Jon said. "They say it's not official until it's Facebook Official, and now it's Facebook Official."

"It's been a week." He took a deep breath. "A week since I was getting ready for what was supposed to be the best day of my life, and, y'know ended up getting stabbed in the back."

"Oh, sweetie." Jon's arms were suddenly around him, and it was a nice reminder of what he'd gained since leaving town. "It was time."

"I don't regret it," he said, clinging to Jon with one arm snaked under Jon to pick at his muffin. "I think I did at first, but I don't now. I just wish I'd been the one to make the passive-aggressive Facebook status update."

"You're better than that, Zach," Jon said as he gave Zach a warm smile.

"I'm pretty okay with becoming a cranky old cat lady."

"You won't become a cat lady," Jon laughed.

"I'm certainly not getting married any time soon."

"Be patient. You don't need to rush into it."

"I'm just... tired of waiting for it to happen. Maybe that's where things went wrong with Andrew. I was so caught up in this idea of being married and having a family that I didn't stop to think about what kind of person I had roped into having that life with me. I wasted literally _half my adult life_ with a sham relationship."

"Don't be a debbie downer. I mean, now you know _better_. Now you know what kind of person to avoid." Jon nuzzled closer. "You have a lot to give, Zach. You're going to be an amazing husband some day. It'll happen."

He sighed. His heart was doing flip-flops in his chest. It was so easy to imagine _Jon_ \-- all warmth and smiles and farm-raised sweetness -- as the perfect husband. "I wish some day was now."

"Just give it time. It may happen sooner than you think," Jon said softly.

Alice bid them a good night and they made their way upstairs to Zach's room. He didn't even have to ask this time if Jon was going to stay with him, and he wondered what Jon following him to bed meant. When they were settled in, Jon wrapped around his side out of what had to be habit at this point, and Zach relaxed into the familiar weight of Jon half-covering him.

"I want you to tell me something," Jon said quietly.

Jon was nudged around his side, his legs wedged under the crook of Zach's bent knees, and he had an arm flopped over Zach's chest. It was something from _Cuddle Sutra_ , and probably the best cuddle they'd had the entire trip. He was half-asleep the second his head was pillowed against Jon's soft hair, so it took a moment for the words to sink in. "Okay," he said hesitantly.

"I want you to admit that deep down, you're a bigger cuddle slut than me."

"Uh, yeah right."

"Oh, really?" Jon purred, his fingers tracing along Zach's neck.

"I mean, if anything, I'm pretty cuddle-monogamous."

He could feel Jon smiling against his chest. "That's fair. But it's kind of funny how you were so freaked out about it before and now it's like you can't get enough."

"I can stop anytime I want," he joked. Something inside him was protesting, though, making him worry if he really could stop.


	9. Chapter 9

When he woke up the next morning, with Jon sleeping heavily beside him, Zach was still riding the high of successfully baking something -- something that Jon had loved. He wanted to cook some more, just to see that look on his face again.

After a quick shower, he trundled downstairs and found Alice sitting with some coffee at the dining room table. She gave him the go-ahead and he started poking through the kitchen to make breakfast. He was frying some hash browns when he heard Jon's groggy voice at the kitchen door. "You're making breakfast? This is new."

"I didn't think you'd be up for a while," he said over his shoulder. Cooking at home was a routine he'd missed, and he didn't notice how long he had been whipping together the food until he looked over at the steaming plates lined all along the counter top. "We've been living off McDonald's, and I wanted real breakfast."

Jon shuffled across the kitchen in his pajamas, admiring the feast Zach had set up around the stove. "So fancy! Y'know, I never could get the hang of flipping omelets. They always turn into a mess."

He felt a little proud at the awe in Jon's eyes. "You flip them with a spatula, don't you?"

"Should I not?"

"It sounds like cheating but you should wait to flip them until they're on the plate."

Jon laughed. "Your secret is safe with me." He looked at the spread of food Zach had laid out across the counter. "Pancakes too? Last night I thought you said you couldn't cook..."

"I need all the help in the world to bake anything, but I think I'm a pretty good cook."

Jon picked at one of the pancakes sitting to the side of the stove, and moaned at the taste. "God, these are amazing. This must be why Andrew kept you around."

Zach cringed. It must have been obvious because Jon immediately gasped and wrapped a hand around his shoulder.

"Oh, that sounded really awful. That didn't even come close to what I meant."

He shrugged and focused on the pan. "I've said worse lately."

"That doesn't make it okay. I'm so sorry, that was really... I didn't mean it like that at all, Zach."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," he said. He wanted to ask if there was anything else that would possibly compel Andrew to want to stay with him, but there was no point thinking like that. This _was_ something he was good at, and he could share it with Jon. He took a deep breath and scooped the cooked eggs onto a plate. "Do you want to try?"

"Flipping the omelet? I'd hate to take away from your secret system," he smiled.

Zach nudged Jon in front of the stove and guided him into folding the eggs over on themselves, pressing onions and mushrooms and tomatoes between layers of egg and gooey cheese.

"It's still not as pretty as yours," Jon said as he licked a string of cheese from the end of his finger.

"You can have the pretty one."

"Well, that's not fair."

"No, I... I was making breakfast for you, so you would have had a pretty one anyway. And it all goes down the same."

Jon smiled sweetly and bumped their shoulders together.

Alice bustled in, refilling her coffee and giving them cups as well, and the three of them filled their plates and walked through the back door to sit on the edge of the porch for breakfast. She chittered about the plans she had for the day and told them Avery had brought the car over early in the morning on his way to work.

When she asked when they planned to leave, Jon smiled widely and said, "We're going to Vegas today."

Alice chuckled and gave Zach a curious look when he glanced over in her direction, before she thanked him for breakfast and picked herself up to go back inside.

Jon munched on a piece of bacon and leaned back as they polished off the last of their breakfast. Zach wrapped around him, and smiled as he felt Jon sigh and curl into him a little more. Zach stayed rooted beside him, focused on the feeling of being pressed against the soft fabric of his t-shirt, Jon's hand twining with his own.

"Food means a lot to you, isn't it?" Jon asked as he handed over the last piece of bacon.

"What do you mean?"

"When we were binging on the muffins, there was this moment where you looked at me like there was nothing else in the world..."

Zach's breath caught in his throat. He glanced down at their hands linked together, Jon's fingers tightly laced with his own. He wondered how obvious he was, if Jon could read all his secrets on his face; if Jon could tell how badly Zach had fallen for him.

"That's your cuddling, isn't it?" Jon was saying. "I cuddle you by smothering you in your sleep, and you do it with food."

"Maybe," he said quietly. "But this is nice, too."

"Cuddle slut," Jon whispered with a grin of victory.

 

After helping Alice with the dishes, they started to pack up their bags. Alice hugged them as they headed out to the car in the late morning sun. She pinched Zach's cheeks and told him how much better he looked now, and then winked at Jon as she went back inside.

His good mood didn't fade at all during the drive to Las Vegas, not even when he remembered that exactly one week ago, he was supposed to be getting married. It was amazing how much could change in just a week.

Every time he glanced over at Jon, he caught him smiling or being otherwise heart-wrenchingly adorable. When he discovered how to make the GPS on Zach's phone narrate their directions _and_ regularly refresh how long it would take to get to town, he looked like he was going to have a fit.

There was no denying anymore that Zach was completely smitten with him, and even if things were still a little tense between them, it was the best feeling in the world.

When they made it to the tourist trap of casinos and hotels, which were tacky enough to make up for the day's lack of quirky gas stations, Jon led them to the gaudiest hotel he could find. They brought their bags up a seemingly-endless elevator ride to their room, and Jon started pulling out clothes. "I don't want to be those tourists who go into a casino wearing t-shirts and baseball caps."

"Well," Zach drawled. "I was going to get out my fanny pack, but I guess it can wait."

"You're going to wear this," Jon said as he dug out the bag with Zach's suit. Zach took in a deep breath and eyed it with apprehension. "Please?" Jon begged.

"It'll feel weird. I know you thought it would be fun, but it's my wedding suit."

"For a wedding you didn't go to."

"Exactly! It has to be cursed now!"

"Stop thinking like that. You never wore it to a wedding, ergo, it is not your wedding suit. Think of it as your getting-wasted-in-Vegas suit."

"I don't plan on getting wasted."

"No one _plans_ on getting wasted in Vegas, that's just what _happens_." He put his hands on his hips and looked petulantly at Zach. "Pretty please with sugar and cherries on top, will you please wear the nice suit?"

Zach sighed and looked at him making the most pathetic face he'd ever seen. He knew he should protest more, because it _was_ going to feel weird, but there was no saying no to Jon anymore. "Fine."

They both stripped down and started pulling on their slightly rumpled formal wear. Zach was having second thoughts about the waistcoat when Jon let out an indecent moan. "It has a _vest_?"

He blushed and pulled on the jacket.

Jon grunted as he buttoned his slacks. "Augh, I ate too many hash browns this week."

"I agree," Zach said as he put on his shoes.

"I just wore this to my graduation _two weeks ago_ , and they're so tight already."

He glanced over to see Jon stuffing his shirt into the dove gray pants and struggling with the zip. They were... obscenely tight. There was no way Zach was going to leave Vegas with his dignity (or bank account) intact if he had to be around Jon all night in those pants.

Once they were both dressed, Jon tucked some cash into the inner pocket of Zach's jacket, saying, "I know you're going to be a wet blanket and only spend a little money because you're afraid of losing it all. This is some of my graduation present, and I was going to spend it here anyways. You can give it back when you win it back, okay?"

They went downstairs to the casino of their hotel, where they were given their cards for the slot machines and little booklets with information about the different rooms in the gaming area. Jon led them over to the craps table, which he insisted would win him back any money he tried to spend over the course of the night. Zach was unconvinced as they watched a couple play a few rounds, and he decided he'd rather play the penny slots instead.

"But who will blow my dice?" Jon winked.

Zach rolled his eyes. "I'm going to gamble like a grandma and try to win money on pretty colors instead."

Jon pulled in and squeezed their fingers together. "I'll see you later, granny."

Zach turned away and started walking toward the machines before Jon could see his blush. When he made it over to the slots, he had a hard time figuring out which one to pick. There were hundreds of machines, and they all looked like they had basically the same game. Was there a trick to finding the right one?

He started at one called Cascadia, which had mermaids and fishes and diamonds. It ate his money instantly. But he wasn't going to give up hope. He gave himself an ultimatum: if he lost $10 on a machine, he'd move to the next one.

He went through a couple more penny slots before ending up at a Star Trek machine, which ended up being the first one he managed to make any money on. Plus, it had fun sound effects and little side games, which made no sense, but he couldn't complain when he won $12 on the first round. He sat at the Star Trek slot for over an hour and made up the money he'd lost on the other machines and then some.

"You gonna sit here all night, man?"

Zach looked up to see a pudgy old man standing with his arms crossed. "Um, do you have a problem with that?"

"Let other people have a turn," the guy said, rolling his eyes.

Not wanting to start a fight, Zach printed out his voucher and got out of the seat, wondering if there was some kind of rulebook for how long you're allowed to sit at a machine. He'd seen one old lady at Cascadia the entire time he'd been trolling the slots room.

Planting himself at his last machine, Zach put in the first voucher he'd gotten, and bet all $12 on the first round. He was delightfully surprised to see the slots line up and double the money he'd put in. Lucky machine, he thought. He bet again. The next hour went much the same way, and he slowly racked up more and more money. It was a glorious high, but he knew that he had to be careful with it. He told himself that he could keep from spending too much if he printed a voucher every $50.

Just as he was getting into his system, he felt someone tumble over and wrap around his side.

"Hey," he smiled as Jon face-planted into his neck. "I thought you were going to avoid the grandmas?

"They followed me," Jon moaned. "The little old ladies are over at the craps table. Zach, why can't they just let me gamble like a normal person?"

"Are you drunk?"

"What? No. I only had one drink. I'm fine. And _you_ are fine," he said with a wink.

"Your one drink must have been pretty strong, then," Zach smiled and went back to his game. Jon stayed cuddled up against him, snickering as he played through a few rounds of the machine.

"This game is silly," Jon said, his chin perched on Zach's shoulder.

Zach turned just as Jon was going to say something else, and their faces bumped together awkwardly until Jon angled his head a little and locked their lips together. Zach's heart thundered in his chest, and he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes as Jon sighed and pressed against him, hands trailing down Zach's neck.

When he pulled back, Jon looked as shocked as Zach felt. His eyes were wide as he stepped away from the chair and stammered, "I'm going... somewhere. Without old ladies."

Zach was dumbstruck as he watched Jon flounce off to another area of the casino. The kiss took over his mind, replaying over and over. He licked his lips and tasted traces of the whatever Jon had been drinking earlier in the night. He had to stop playing for a few minutes, afraid he'd lose his winning streak.

Get it together, he told himself. He had to rationalize it, telling himself that it didn't mean anything, or it would drive him crazy. Jon was a fountain affection; of course drinking would bring it out even more. He took a calming breath and focused on the screen in front of him, getting back in the game.

A little while later, one of the waitresses walked by and set a cocktail next to his machine. Zach looked up in surprise. "I didn't order anything."

She gave him a knowing smile. "From a gentleman in the poker room."

Zach thought maybe the angry Star Trek guy was feeling guilty about his attitude, and took a sip from the glass.

Two more drinks and several vouchers later -- he'd stopped counting after thirteen, and they sat in a stack in his pocket -- Zach was riding high. He knew he needed to stop soon, but he was winning so much he couldn't bear to tear himself away from the machine.

He took a deep breath and told himself _just one more round_ , scanned one of the $50 vouchers, and bet it all. His eyes went wide as the slots slowly lined up. Three of the directions matched perfectly. He'd just tripled his $50 in one round. He glanced around nervously before looking over to the ticker above his card. He printed out the voucher for that round and for whatever money was still on his slot card, before he could bet any more. It would be too easy to keep going and lose everything. It was better to stop now while he was comfortably ahead.

Filled with pride, he walked through the casino, passing the craps table where he'd left Jon. But Jon was nowhere in sight. He wove between all the slots and was about to pull out his phone to call when he remembered -- the drink. He made his way into the poker room on the other side of the casino.

Jon was sitting at a green table with several less-than-respectable-looking men. Zach stood a few feet away, just watching for a few hands. He had a few drinks sitting by his side, and he considered his cards with the same sweet smile he wore most of the time. Zach realized that Jon's young, exuberant face was probably his best asset right now; no one would suspect that he could sweep them under the table, but that was exactly what he was doing. He had a fair amount of chips stacked next to his cards, and even a novice like Zach could tell he was a pretty good player.

The other men at the table didn't seem to be faring as well, and Zach worried if Jon had gotten himself into some crazy action movie inspired poker fight scene. He walked closer to the table and Jon looked up to catch his eye. "Hey, sweetie!" he said excitedly.

His fellow players weren't nearly as excited. Zach put a hand on his shoulder and said, "I'm about to cash out and head up to the room."

"I'm going to stay down here for a while."

"I think... maybe it's time to call it quits."

Jon pouted. "But I'm doing so well."

The other men at the table looked deeply unhappy about this, and Zach was becoming more worried that something bad would happen if he didn't convince Jon to leave. He didn't want to sink this low, but a small part of him hoped that maybe the kiss wasn't entirely unintentional... "Come on," he said with a slow smile. "Come upstairs with me."

Jon's eyes glimmered as the implication set in, and he tossed his cards onto the table. Even through the haze of _he likes me he likes me_ running through his head, Zach couldn't miss the muttered "Finally," from one of the other players as Jon stood up and scooped his chips together. Jon came up to his side and they headed over to one of the cashiers. Once Zach had his vouchers exchanged for the $2412 he'd made on the machines, Jon slid over his piles of chips.

"Holy shit," Zach gasped when the girl behind the counter ran Jon's chips through a machine and started sorting through a large stack of bills. She counted them out twice in front of them.

"I told you," Jon smirked.

"And I thought _I_ had a good night. That's..."

"Seven thousand, seven hundred and fifty-two dollars," she said. "Have a wonderful evening, gentlemen."

 

Jon flailed while they waited for the elevator, and Zach couldn't help but share his excitement, grinning and bouncing with him. When the doors opened and no one else followed them inside, Jon launched himself at Zach, wrapping around him in a tight hug. "This is the best night ever!" he gushed, squeezing tight. He was pressed flush up against Zach in the elevator, pushing him heavily along the wall with hands roaming under the back of his coat.

"You're awfully touchy."

"I'm trying not to ogle you in your tux. I'm afraid I might act inappropriately."

"So... feeling me up was the _appropriate_ option? How much have you had to drink?"

"I didn't drink _that much_." Jon nuzzled hotly into his neck. "You look so hot in this suit, like a '40s detective."

Jon had seemed a little buzzed when Zach collected him from the poker room, and Zach hadn't _really_ meant to bring him upstairs to ravish him -- at least 70% of him hadn't meant it -- but he was high on the evening and more than willing to let Jon put his hands anywhere he wanted. It was intoxicating, being in his arms like this, and Zach felt like he deserved a little loving after saving Jon from the unsavory-looking men downstairs.

And he'd long given up any chance of being able to resist Jon, so the moment at the slot machines was just the icing on the cake. They were in _Vegas_ , and Jon was wearing such tight pants, and they'd both just won _so much money_. He carded his hand fingers through Jon's mussed curls. "Does that make you the curvy bombshell who walks into my life and turns everything upside down?"

"Yes," he mouthed against Zach with a gasping laugh.

"You do have the ass for it."

"You keep talking about my ass," Jon snickered. He squirmed a little closer, and Zach took the opportunity to slide his hands down.

"I think it's perfect," he said, giving him a little squeeze. They stood in comfortable silence as the elevator slowly climbed up to their floor, before the booze in Zach dared him to whisper, "I think _you're_ perfect."

He could swear he saw hearts in Jon's eyes when the elevator doors opened and they pulled apart. Yeah, Zach was done for.

They managed to make it into the room without further incident, but the second the door clicked shut behind them, Jon pulled them together again, claiming a wet kiss. When they broke apart, he looked at Zach with wild eyes and a determined grin, and pushed him back onto the bed.

"I liked your drink," Zach said with a lazy smile as he propped himself upright on the bed.

Jon crawled into his lap and cupped his face. "Yeah?"

Leaning into the touch, Zach brushed their noses together and tilted his face to lick at Jon's upper lip. Jon moaned and pressed in with a hungry kiss as he eased them back into the bed.

"I like you laid out like this," he said as he ran his hands down Zach's sides, appraising with his fingers and inching his way up to meet Zach's mouth with his own again. "You're so gorgeous, Zach. All buttoned up and dressed so nice."

Zach's cock ached in his pants. The lust in Jon's voice and the smile against his lips were working in tandem to do him in before things even got started. No one had ever talked to him like this, looked at him like this. He grabbed firmly at Jon's ass, bringing their hips together and started shuffling out of his jacket. Jon let him, but put a hand on the buttons of the vest.

"I want you just like this," he said, dragging his mouth down Zach's neck to whisper huskily in his ear. "You can have good memories for this suit."

He couldn't help a breathy moan as Jon canted their hips together again. Jon seemed perfectly happy to just kiss and grind against Zach's hip for long minutes. Andrew was always so goal-oriented in sex, like it was a race to get to the orgasm -- it was nice to just roll around in bed with someone, hot and fully-clothed. He had no idea what to do with his hands, so he kept kneading at whatever part of Jon's body he could find. It felt amazing. They made out with no finesse at all for what felt like forever, sliding their mouths together and rocking languidly into each other's hips.

The air was heady with their arousal, and soon Jon was shifting erratically against Zach's thigh, his head buried warm in Zach's neck as he crested his climax. "Oh, Zach, I--" Jon whimpered against his neck. Zach still had a hand in Jon's hair, and he yanked his head up to watch as he came. At the first pulse of his cock against the valley of Zach's hip, Jon's face creased in pleasure. His pupils blew wide before he shut his eyes, and smothered a cry in Zach's chin, shaking hard in his arms and burying his face back into the crook of Zach's neck.

As much as he wanted to give Jon time to catch his breath, Zach was so hard by now it _hurt_. He surged his hips and pulled hard at the loops of Jon's slacks, trying to get as much friction as possible.

"Hang on, just let me--" Jon sucked in an unsteady breath, pulling back a little. Zach looked pleadingly up at him when he pushed himself up, struggling to keep steady. "I just need a second," he gasped as he rested his head against Zach's chin. Zach tilted his face down and kissed softly at his forehead, and Jon opened the front of Zach's pants, plunging his hand in and pulling out his aching member.

Jon's fingers were clumsy in his post-orgasmic haze, stroking at Zach's shaft and rubbing sweaty against his thighs. He slumped down the bed to breathe hotly against Zach's cock -- Zach clenched his eyes shut in disbelief, because couldn't possibly be happening, not really -- before taking it into his slackened mouth. Zach threw his head back as heat blazed through him, and before he could even warn Jon, he was pulsing down his throat.

Jon kept stroking him and pressing kisses along his hip as he came down, and Zach was overcome with the need to touch _everywhere_. He sat forward enough to grasp at Jon's shoulders, pulling him back onto the bed and clinging like he could never bear to let go again.

"Wow, hey," Jon laughed with exhaustion, squirming in his arms. Zach leaned in, desperate to kiss him again, licking into the deep recesses of Jon's mouth and tasting traces of himself there. Jon pulled back with a gasp. "Oh my god, this is amazing. Can you be like this forever?"

Zach could only kiss him again, too wired on endorphins to be self-conscious of his crushing need for Jon to be everywhere all at once. Once he'd calmed down enough to move again, they got Jon out of his messy pants and into clean boxers. When Zach started unbuttoning his own shirt, Jon insisted that Zach stay in his destroyed suit, and Zach couldn't say no.

With a hand resting on Zach's neck and their bodies in a tangled mess, Jon fell asleep. Zach just lay across the bed, limbs loose around Jon and head hazy with afterglow before sleep overtook him too.


	10. Chapter 10

Zach was barely awake when he felt Jon bolt out of bed in the morning. He lulled into the warm spot for a few seconds, feeling no motivation to move ever again. Every bone in his body still felt like jelly, and it was new and amazing. If this was what it felt like to wake up after a night of sex with Jon, then Zach really had no choice than to keep him in bed forever. He smiled into the pillow at the thought.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before rolling out of the rumpled, sex-scented sheets -- that was also new, and kind of awkward to discover half-asleep -- and padded into the bathroom. Jon was hunched over the toilet, looking more miserable than a wet cat. Zach sank to his knees beside him, smoothing the hair from his forehead.

"Why are you touching me?" Jon whined, burying his face into his crossed arms on the toilet seat. "I'm disgusting."

Zach sleepily leaned against his shoulder. "I didn't think you were _that_ drunk last night..."

"Because I kept telling you I didn't drink that much?" Jon laughed bitterly. "C'mon, Zach. That's like, the first sign that someone's drunk."

"You didn't seem really out of it. You weren't acting all that different... well, except for the part where you ravished me the second we got back into the room."

"Oh, god," he moaned. "Please don't remind me. I'm so embarrassed right now. I can't believe I just threw myself at you like that."

"I didn't mind," Zach whispered.

"I'm not a slutty drunk, I promise -- and I'm not always so quick. Or _sloppy_."

"I don't have any complaints," he said as he brushed hair out of Jon's face. "Seriously."

Jon leaned against him. "You're too good to me."

He pressed a hard kiss to the messy part in Jon's hair and gave his shoulder a squeeze before looking around the bathroom to find something resembling hangover remedies. It was Las Vegas, where everyone gets drunk and has bad mornings. There had to be Advil or seltzer water somewhere.

After digging through their bags and the hotel room amenities, he came up with a few Tylenol, a small can of Sprite, and one of the muffins they'd packed at the bed and breakfast.

When Jon was fed and drugged up, he sank into Zach's arms and they stood in the bathroom for a few minutes, swaying a little because Jon was still a little shaky. Zach guided him back under the sheets again before crawling in behind him and snuggling close.

"Checkout's not until 2:30," he said softly, rubbing his hands up and down Jon's back. "You can sleep for a couple of hours."

"'msorry," he heard Jon mumble into the pillow. "I'm the worst first date ever."

"Not true," Zach said, kissing his shoulder as his heart fluttered. He was giddy at the implication of possible second and third dates.

Once he was reassured that Jon was asleep and in no danger of getting sick in the near future, he headed downstairs to get some ice. He'd forgotten just how long the elevator ride was until he got to the bottom floor and discovered that it had dropped him off in front of the bar. The bar that was open at eleven in the morning.

Weighing his options, Zach figured he could have _one_ drink to help him through nursing Jon's hangover before he had to head back upstairs. He sat at the end of the bar with a whiskey sour in a ridiculous-looking glass that was doing nothing to help him come down from the crazy high he was still riding. Jon's voice saying "first date" kept replaying in his head. He felt silly, so pathetically smitten with him. He'd never been like this before. His brain had thrown all common sense and second thoughts out the window and was stuck on a loop of _first date first date first date_.

"Drinking this early in the morning calls for a stronger drink than something that comes with an umbrella."

Zach rolled his eyes and turned around to tell off the southern-twanged voice behind him, but his jaw dropped as he took in the man wearing tight black jeans and a '90s style button-down denim shirt. "You have got to be kidding me."

Garth Brooks was criticizing his drink choice, and he was starting to harsh Zach's good morning. Maybe _he'd_ had too much to drink the night before, too. This had to be some sort of alcohol-induced nightmare.

"What can I get you?"

"That's really not necessary," Zach said, and meant it.

Garth Brooks fixed him with a stare that said, 'You will accept a drink from me, lowly bar patron.' "You can do better than that," he said, pointing at Zach's drink, before he turned to the bartender and ordered a Busch Light for himself. Zach managed to keep from pointing out the hypocrisy in judging someone's whiskey sour when you're drinking _light_ beer.

But it kind of made sense. Country songs were all about love and drinking copious amounts of cheap beer. Drunk Garth Brooks would know all about drowning sorrows and Friday night parties, especially considering -- "Didn't you write a song about how you wanted _two_ Pina Coladas? One for each hand? And you say _my_ drink is too girly?"

"So," Garth Brooks said, looking away quickly and taking a long drink of his beer. Point to Zach. "Tell me your troubles. Lose too much last night?"

Zach's eyes narrowed. "If I lost all my money last night, would I be able to afford a hotel bar cocktail?"

"You'd be surprised," he gave a hearty laugh and signaled for another light beer from the bartender. "So, lady troubles?"

"Um," Zach started lamely. "No... lady." He waited for the implication to sink in. The wannabe cowboy's eyes widened briefly before he turned back to his beer. "This is so awkward," Zach moaned, but Garth Brooks clapped him on the shoulder and decided to draw out the awkward moment by continuing the awkward conversation.

"I'm sure it's basically the same, right?"

Zach blinked. "I can't tell if you're being serious or not. I think I'm offended either way."

"So your... gentleman troubles. He married?"

"What?" Zach sputtered. "No, he's not -- no. There aren't really troubles _now_. I mean, he's hung over and regretting drunk sex and -- okay, seriously?" He rolled his eyes at Garth Brooks' grimace. "You _asked_ ; you're lucky I didn't go into graphic detail."

"Please--"

"Believe me, I won't." Zach started wishing he'd taken up the drink offer, if only so he could literally drown himself in a pitcher of tap beer.

Garth Brooks took a swig from his glass and said, "So you're sitting here sulking because... what, you don't want to go up and deal with your hung over boyfriend? Or because the sex was that bad?"

Zach sighed. "It wasn't bad. It was -- you don't want details, I get it. It was good. But it was... drunk, and he's being weird about it."

"Maybe you should remind him that hungover sex is worse. Or remind him that sober sex is better. Or tell him something about that Texts From Last Night website. Funny stuff, right there."

Zach just rolled his eyes.

"Stop pussyfooting around and just go back up there and fuck him properly." Garth Brooks looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "That wasn't insensitive, was it? Pussyfooting? I'm not trying to imply that one of you is--"

"Okay, that's -- no. Goodbye, Garth Brooks," Zach said, tossing back his umbrella-drink and walking away as quickly as possible. He picked up a little bag of ice from the bartender and headed back up the crawling elevator to the room. "What the fuck?" he moaned, hanging his head and sagging against the wall.

He forgot all about the Garth Brooks awkwardness when he came back into their room to find Jon sprawled across the bed on top of the covers in just his t-shirt and boxers. It was pathetic, but Zach couldn't help the smile across his face as he picked up a small towel from the dresser and wrapped the ice with it. He crawled back into the bed and pressed the cold pack against Jon's forehead.

"That's nice," Jon sighed tiredly.

Zach leaned in closer and kissed at the corner of his lips.

Jon flinched, and his hands pushed against Zach's shoulders. "Zach, I am pretty sure I still taste like vomit."

"I don't care."

"It's _gross_ ," he whined, his voice hitching as Zach rolled more firmly on top of him.

"I like you," Zach said, ignoring everything else, including and especially the fact that yeah, Jon did still taste a little sick. "I like you _so much_ , Jon. I don't care what Garth Brooks said about drunk sex being bad, I don't care that you think last night was bad, but you shouldn't regret it--"

"Garth Brooks? What are you--"

Zach cut him off with another sloppy kiss that Jon didn't pull away from as eagerly. When he sat back, he couldn't help the flip his heart did at the sight of Jon flustered beneath him. "This isn't a rebound thing. I don't think you're perfect; I question a lot of your decisions, like -- going in that pool in the middle of the night was a _bad idea_ , but I can't say _no_ to you, even when I know I should. McDonald's breakfast is a poor life choice. I know you love it, but I think it's terrible. And those porn books are terrible. But I like you anyways. You're going to make me fat and you're going to make me stupid, and I know you can't make everything magically better, but you make a lot of things better, like going to concerts that make me want to cry, and driving through really boring parts of the country. And I literally _cannot sleep_ without you sprawled on top of me like a beached whale."

Jon looked up at him in shock, bleary-eyed and confused. The cold pack was still on his forehead and Zach brushed it off to kiss him again. Jon didn't push away with as much insistence as before, and when they pulled apart, he swallowed back the remainders of sleep and said uncertainly, "You taste like... whiskey?"

"What? Oh, right -- drinking with Garth Brooks."

"You keep talking about Garth Brooks -- Zach, you're drunk. You're not... you're not thinking straight."

"No, I am," he insisted. He was thinking clearly and he knew exactly what he was doing for the first time in his life. _I love you so much,_ he wanted to say, but his brain finally kicked in, backtracked, and reminded him that it's only been a week, and who says that after only a week? "I'm always second-guessing myself and worrying if I'm doing the right thing or saying the wrong thing. But you make me stop caring so much. You make me a better person."

"Zach, you are a good person. You'll always have that, even without--"

"But I _like_ myself when I'm with you," Zach said vehemently. "You have no idea what that's like. You make me feel like I'm worth it."

"You are so worth it," Jon whispered.

"You said that I needed to figure out what I wanted, and this is it." He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. He didn't want to be wrong, but he had to give Jon an out, just in case. "If you don't feel the same, then that's okay, I can get over it, but--"

"I do," Jon laughed breathlessly, giving him a watery smile. "I do, I just... you need to be sure."

"I am. So sure," he leaned in again and even though Jon was still disgusted by his own mouth, he didn't kick up a fuss this time when Zach kissed him.

"Um. So... you keep talking about Garth Brooks," Jon said.

"Oh, god," he moaned, rolling to his side. Jon's arms came around him, and it felt so familiar and _right_. He pulled in closer and buried his face in Jon's neck. "Garth Brooks was down at the bar and I think he wanted me to drink _really shitty light beer_ with him, and he told me that I just needed to man up and remind you that hungover sex is worse than drunk sex."

"Shut up," Jon laughed, shaking his head.

"He said I needed to stop pussyfooting around and then he asked if that was insensitive."

Jon started laughing so hard he nearly knocked Zach off of him -- nearly, because Zach was holding on too tight for that to be possible.

"I'm dead serious. It was probably the most awkward experience of my life."

Jon held him tight and smiled into his hair. "I'm pretty sure you're just making that up because you think my being hung over will make me believe it -- which I _don't_... but we should keep that story anyway. It's more interesting than what really happened."

"Vegas wasn't interesting enough?"

"I grew up on a farm, Zach. My mother will die when she hears that Garth Brooks told you to sex me up. Well, we'd have to leave out the sex part. She's Methodist, not Lady Gaga."

"It's completely true, though."

"Of course it is, sweetie."

They laid tangled in bed for a while, just breathing and gently touching. Zach felt so _happy_. "You know you won a lot of money last night?"

"I remember! I was really hoping to win enough to pay for this hotel room."

"You won, like, eight _thousand_ dollars."

Jon sighed. "I can pay off my student loan."

"You sound so grown up when you say that."

"Mm, I'll show you grown up," he warned, sitting up a little and then wincing at what had to be a pretty bad headache. "Later. When my head doesn't feel like it's full of rocks. Last night was ridiculous, no matter how much you say otherwise."

Zach hesitated for a moment before saying, "...bad ridiculous?"

Jon pulled back to cup his face, giving him a sure smile. "The kind of ridiculous where I'm glad that it happened, but I wish that it had happened better."

"We have time to do it better," Zach said shyly.

Jon smiled wider. "Then I vote for a do-over."

"Do I get a vote?"

"Yes, but your vote only counts if you agree with me."

Zach grinned. "Like I can veto anything you say."

Jon pressed a kiss to his forehead and said, "I'm going to sleep off this bad boozy-headed feeling some more. You can molest me later, okay?" And he rolled over in Zach's arms to go back to sleep.

Still buzzed on his whiskey sour and the feeling of being completely and hopelessly infatuated with this amazing human being -- who liked him too, and who was adorable even when he was hung over -- Zach wrapped around him. He nuzzled into Jon's hair before dozing off as well.

 

They didn't have very long to sleep in, but Jon was in much better spirits after the late morning nap. As they drove out of town, Zach kept glancing over to see Jon blushing and trying to hide a grin.

The drive into California was quicker than the GPS had planned, and mysteriously free of construction and trashy porn store ads that would tempt Jon into stopping before they made it to the house. Zach was grateful for the uneventful afternoon; he'd had enough excitement for a few days. He just wanted to get to Jody's house and curl up in bed with Jon for the next week or month or year.

They were only a few blocks away from Jody's house, but Jon insisted on going into one last tacky gas station for tradition's sake.

"This one doesn't have any fun mugs," he pouted inside the Toot 'n Moo.

Zach rubbed his shoulders and said, "Let's get going, then."

They made it to the house just as it was starting to get dark, and Jody was sitting out on the front porch with her easel. She waved excitedly when the little blue car pulled into the driveway, and rushed down the steps to hug Jon when he climbed out of the driver's side door.

"I've missed you so much," she squealed as she hugged him.

"I missed you too!" he laughed.

She rushed over to the other side to hug Zach, too. "I haven't really heard much about you, but I'm sure you're great! Come inside, there's still food!"

As they pulled their bags out of the back of the car, Jon whispered, "I think she's high. She's not usually so perky."

The dining room table was set up with cheese and fruit trays, left over from a party Jody hosted earlier in the afternoon. Jon pointed out a bong sitting near the end of the table, and glanced over at Jody bouncing through the room.

"Feel free to eat anything," she said excitedly. "I've been munching all day. I have the guest room all set up, so if you just want to hit the hay, there's that. Aaand yeah! I'm going back out to paint, bye!"

Zach had picked up some cheese pieces and put them on a cracker when she dashed back inside.

"Oh! Jon! Your mom sent something for you guys," she said, pointing to a large Priority Mail box sitting on the glass coffee table in the living room. "I don't know what it is."

Jon picked up the box and shook it. "I think it's your blanket."

"Shut up, no it's not," Zach said around the cracker.

Jon ripped off the pull-tab and beamed as a bright red crocheted afghan spilled from the box. He pulled the blanket open and let the box and a slip of paper inside fall onto the floor. It was enormous, at least as big as a queen-sized bed, and a lot more attractive than the one they'd brought in the car.

"That's _amazing_ ," Zach breathed, reaching over to pick up one of the corners. It was soft and smooshy, and he slipped his fingers into the folded layers of the blanket, feeling it squish between his knuckles.

Jon walked up with his end and wrapped around Zach's side. "This is going to see some good cuddlings."

Zach could only grin with happiness and pull Jon even closer.

After dumping the blanket and their bags into Jody's spare bedroom, they sat out on the edge of the back deck with her, as she got progressively more stoned, as Jon had assumed. She sat at her easel under the awning and Jon regaled her with the funnier tales of their trip. With the exception of the awkward couple of days when they weren't really talking, Zach realized their lazy drive down was perfect even if it hadn't been all that exciting.

Jon showed her the pictures in his phone of the giant sloth, the books they didn't buy in Omaha, and the tacky corner stores. She howled with laughter when he dug out one of the trashy porn novels and gave her a reading. Zach laughed a few times, too, no longer as uncomfortable as he had been when Jon first read them in Iowa.

When Jody's laughter got in the way of her painting, she picked up a fresh blunt and started walking along the fence of her backyard, leading them to the edge of the sand, packed hard and wet from the ocean creeping up the backyard.

As they walked along the beach, Jon started telling her about his shenanigans at the poker table in Vegas, confirming Zach's paranoia that the other men at the table were going to find and kill them at some point, like in a bad heist movie.

"You had a wild night in Vegas, huh?" she winked.

Zach blushed, and he noticed Jon did too.

Jody rolled her eyes and kicked up a splash of ocean water at them. "Am I going to have to suffer through you guys fucking like rabbits the entire time you're here?"

"Well, Zach tried to convince me that Garth Brooks told him we needed to have hangover sex."

Zach kicked some water Jon's way, saying, "Why don't you believe me?"

"What was Garth Brooks doing in Vegas, Zach?" he asked petulantly, with his hands on his hips.

"What was _I_ doing in Vegas?" Zach asked with another splash, inciting Jon into a full-on water fight. They playfully kicked water and threw clumps of sand at each other for a few minutes. Jody shrieked and ducked out of the splash zone to save her precious cigarette while they flung water and mud at each other for a few minutes.

"Actually," she said when they'd calmed down and collapsed into the water. "He's got a thing. Some show thing at one of the casinos."

Jon sat with his mouth open in shock. "Garth Brooks is seriously in Las Vegas."

"I told you!" Zach crowed.

Jody nodded. "Garth Brooks is totally in Vegas, and he was probably at your hotel. Also, he's kind of a douche, so I wouldn't be surprised if he did say something inappropriate to Zach."

She put out her cigarette on the edge of the backyard gate, walked back to the house, packed away her painting supplies, and started bringing them back inside. Jon was still gaping with trails of sand sliding down his neck and shirt when she left them sitting together in the water. "I apologize for assuming you were drunk this morning."

Zach smiled and smeared more sand on Jon's shirt. "So now that you believe me about Garth Brooks..."

"Well, obviously that's all I needed to know that you want to make an honest woman out of me."

"Garth Brooks can confirm this: I am kind of stupid for you, Jon."

"Should we thank him next time we're in Vegas?"

Zach cringed as they stood up again in the water. Mud was dripping off them as they walked back up to the house. "How about we skip any further awkward conversations with Garth Brooks?"

Jody's house had an overhead shower attached to the end of the deck and they hosed themselves down, trying to clear off the mud and saltwater before they went back into the house. Dripping water through the tile foyer, they rushed into the bedroom and changed into pajamas before diving under the blanket and curling up in the cool sheets. They were still sticky and a little sandy from the beach, but Zach didn't really care.

Jon gave Zach a firm squeeze. "Hey, do you remember that one time when I wanted to cuddle and had to convince you that you weren't gonna die?"

Zach laughed, forking their legs together and pressing in closer.

"It's good to see you smiling again," Jon said.

"I'm... happy."

He ran a hand through Jon's still-wet hair, and Jon made a horrified face and started squirming under the touch. "Ugh, this is disgusting," he complained, trying to move away. "I can feel you pushing sand around in my hair. Why didn't we take a real shower before we got in bed? There's going to be sand everywhere now."

Zach quelled his rant by bringing their mouths together and kissing him softly. His body relaxed under the touch, and they laid in bed kissing and touching for a while before giving in to the pull of sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

The morning breeze rustled Jody's wooden wind chimes hung up along the bedroom windows, easing Zach into waking up. He stretched a little under the blanket, and Jon nestled closer in sleep. Turning into the arms wrapped warmly around him, he ran his hands up Jon's neck to cradle his chin. He should feel like a creeper for watching Jon sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to get out of bed or do much of anything else.

"Why do you keep staring at me while I sleep? It's like you're my own Edward Cullen," Jon mumbled.

"Ouch." Zach smiled and tried to steal a kiss, but Jon pulled away.

"Don't," he whined. "My breath is awful."

"So?" he laughed and pressed their lips together anyway.

Jon's face scrunched in disgust and he sat still until they broke away. He opened his eyes to blink up at Zach. "I can't believe you want to make out with me right now."

"Right? It's almost like you promised me sex..."

Jon laughed. "You want to cash in that coupon now? When I'm all gross and beachy and sleepy and I haven't showered?"

"You really don't like mornings; you're like a completely different person."

"I don't want to be awake yet," Jon groaned.

Zach sighed and snuggled closer. "Well does this _later_ have a time limit?"

"Later today."

He thought for a moment. "Does today include tonight or just daylight hours?"

"Oh, my gosh," Jon chuckled into his hair. "Do you want me to just... go shower now so you can get this out of your system?"

Zach faltered. "If you don't want to..."

Jon smoothed the crease in Zach's brow. "I do, okay? But later. I promise. Sometime today, during daylight hours, when Jody isn't around to complain, and I am fully awake, you may have your wicked way with me, Zachary."

"Okay..."

"I can't believe you don't have sufficient evidence pointing to me not being a morning person. Wake me up again when it's normal human hours," he said, snuggling back into Zach's arms.

Zach relished the feeling of Jon's warm body nestled against his own, relaxing into the cuddle for long morning minutes before he pulled himself from the tangled mess of sleep-heavy limbs and rolled out of bed.

He meandered down the hall to the kitchen, wondering where Jody was, when he noticed she had left a note about eating whatever they wanted as long as they restocked the pantry before leaving. He took a look in the fridge, cataloging the possible breakfast items and poured himself a glass of apple juice.

He pulled open a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread that smelled like heaven, and sliced into it to make some toast. Jody had an impressive pantry, full of hand-labeled bags and jars from what was probably a farmer's market. Most of the jars were small, and full of every kind of jam and spread imaginable. He was torn between pairing the toast with the cinnamon apple butter or the jalapeno rhubarb marmalade.

With a shrug, he grabbed both jars and decided to try a little of each before deciding. He dug out a tray and diced a couple of potatoes to bake in the oven, generously saturated in olive oil and basil. As he waited for the oven to heat, he opened the freezer to discover that Jody had an unhealthy amount of thick-cut applewood bacon. And what breakfast was complete without bacon, he wondered as he pulled out one of the sloppily-wrapped hunks.

After frying the bacon, he scrambled some eggs in the leftover grease and shuffled the potatoes in the oven. He tried both the marmalade and the apple butter on pieces of toast but still couldn't choose between them, so he set both the jars on a breakfast tray.

When he came back into the bedroom, Jon was awake again, sprawled on his back with his phone. Zach nudged the door open with his hip and sidled in with the tray.

Jon set the phone on the bedside table with a bashful smile. "Breakfast again? You spoil me."

"Thank Jody," he said around a slice of toast. "Her kitchen is heaven. I couldn't _not_ make breakfast."

" _This_ looks like heaven," Jon said, his eyes wide as he took in the tray. "I don't know where to start."

"Bacon is always a good start."

Jon smiled and bit into a tender piece of bacon. "You're so right. That's why I like you."

They grazed through the food in easy quiet for a few minutes.

Jon made happy sounds around the apple butter. "I'm surprised you didn't take the Nutella. That would have been great on the toast."

"I didn't see any."

"She probably hid it," Jon mumbled behind his hand. "She eats it straight from the jar."

From the corner of his eye, Zach giddily watched Jon eat their breakfast. Zach's system of eating was to go around the plate and eat every portion individually, but Jon seemed to pick things with no pattern at all. And every time Jon moaned around a bite, or sighed and closed his eyes as he savored a particularly crisp slice of bacon or bite of toast, Zach felt a little surge of pride.

"This is like porn to you, isn't it?" Jon chuckled when he noticed the grin on Zach's face.

He blushed and focused back on his own plate. "I'm just... glad you enjoy it."

Jon sighed when they'd put the tray on the table and turned into Zach's arms. They sank back into the blanket again, and his phone buzzed next to them just as they were starting to settle into what promised to be a good cuddle. Zach could feel him twitch with the urge to pick it up.

"You know, you're on your phone a lot. I'm starting to wonder if like, you have a secret boyfriend who's going to kill me as soon as we get back home."

"Shut up. It's my BFF." When Zach rolled his eyes, Jon flicked his forehead. "Oh, please. Like you don't call Chris every time you have an existential crisis."

"I don't."

Jon raised an eyebrow.

"Not _every_ time," Zach amended.

In a whiny voice, Jon started, "Chris, my boyfriend is a douchebag so I just ran off with this super cute guy, what do I do? Chris, I made out with him in a pool and I'm afraid he doesn't like me back. Chris, I--"

"Shut up," Zach groaned, trying to pull away. Jon just latched on harder and pulled him back, nosing against his forehead. "Why do you like to hurt me?"

"Because even though it should be annoying, you're really cute when you get all embarrassed and sulky." He smoothed back the sleep-mussed tufts of hair in Zach's face and nuzzled closer. "Want to know a secret?"

"Hm?"

"I can feel your penis against my hip," he whispered comically.

Zach snorted and burrowed further into the pillows. "Ugh, please don't say penis. And did you miss that conversation earlier about me wanting to ravish you first thing in the morning?"

"I'm just saying, there have been plenty of other mornings where this was _not_ my wake-up call."

"Because you weren't paying attention," he teased.

Jon's eyes lit up. "You're _saucy_ today. You could almost convince me to tolerate mornings," he said with a wide smile. His fingers caressed behind Zach's ear and eased back to scratch at the top of his spine. "What do you want to do the rest of the day?"

"This," he said honestly.

 

And so the morning continued in much the same way. They lazed in bed into the late afternoon, until Jon's need for a shower forced them to drag out of bed.

Jon pitched in at lunch, helping Zach pile things into sandwiches and warming up the last of the booze muffins. They ended up sprawled across the couch in the living room, watching a Maury marathon and picking through each other's sandwiches.

They were putting away their dishes when Zach couldn't take it anymore. After spending most of the morning tangled together with Jon in bed and the rest wishing they were still there, all he could think about was shoving Jon up against a wall every time they touched each other in the afternoon. So that's exactly what he did. He yanked Jon away from the sink and pinned him to the fridge, sealing their mouths together.

Jon didn't seem surprised at all, his soapy hands hitching under Zach's t-shirt and skirting across his skin while their mouths moved slickly together.

They groped and shoved at each other, Zach grinding hard against Jon's abs. The friction was almost unbearable, and he felt like he was going to burst out of his shorts when Jon ran his tongue along Zach's slack mouth and started sucking on his bottom lip.

Fisting his hands in Jon's sweaty hair and wedging his knee between Jon's thighs, Zach pushed him even further up the cold door of the fridge and nearly dragged him off the linoleum floor.

"Hold on, wait," Jon gasped. He lolled his head to the side and looked up at Zach with lust-blown eyes. Resting his head against Zach's throat, he gave a breathy laugh. "This is-- I like this thing where you stop over-analyzing everything and just make out with me... but we really need to relocate. I want to do this right, not in Jody's _kitchen_."

They stampeded back up the hall to the bedroom, where the sheets were still tangled around the end of the bed. Zach sat back on his haunches in the bed and Jon grinned as he climbed on top of him, strong thighs cradling his hips as he leaned forward to brush a kiss along Zach's jaw.

Zach tugged at his hair, drawing his face back up to kiss him properly. When they broke away, he said, "Let's try to get naked this time."

"That would be an improvement _now_ ," Jon smirked as he rubbed their noses together. "But I liked you not-naked before." He shoved a hand up Zach's shirt, rubbing a palm over a nipple.

"Do you..." Zach started, arching into the touch. "I don't have any condoms or anything."

"Augh, _of course_ ," Jon moaned and buried his face into the pillow by Zach's neck. "Why are we so bad at this? This was so poorly planned. I think I have _one_." He crawled back across the bed and shuffled over to his bag on the floor, fussing with his wallet until he triumphantly held up a single condom. Pushing himself off the floor, he looked thoughtful as he read the back of the wrapper.

"What's wrong?" Zach asked, sitting up.

"Lube," he hummed. "I mean, it says lubricated, but I don't really trust it, and I don't think I have any..."

Zach snapped his fingers as he suddenly remembered. "The massage oil!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The oil you bought at the porn store?"

Jon looked horrified. "That's-- no! Zach, that's not lube!"

"Do you really think people use it for its intended purpose if it's sold at a porn store?"

"Point." Jon rooted through his bag and looked at the bottle. "I am going to trust your judgment on this, but if it turns out badly, I blame you."

Zach reached out and pulled him back onto the bed. "That's fair," he said, bringing Jon's mouth back down to kiss him some more. They rolled around on the bed until Jon was resting against Zach's hips, with Zach's legs wrapped around his thighs as they rubbed against each other. Zach's hands were groping firmly at Jon's ass, pulling him down harder, and Jon cupped Zach's face to kiss him more thoroughly.

Just when Zach thought they might have a repeat of Vegas, Jon pulled away for a second to whisper, "We're not doing so well on the getting-naked part."

They stripped off their own clothes, but Zach was constantly distracted by the inches of skin Jon revealed with every layer he took off. He could barely focus on getting his own jeans undone.

"Oh," Zach's eyes went wide when he saw Jon's half-hard _monster cock_ spring from the waistband of his pants.

Jon looked confused for a moment and then followed Zach's line of sight. "Right. Um." He smiled bashfully before shoving his pants down the rest of the way and helping divest Zach of his own jeans.

Zach licked his lips and kicked his pants across the room. "So... you're, like, the nicest person on the planet, you have an amazing ass, _and_ you have a huge dick. I just-- what did you do in a past life? I need to start taking notes or something."

Jon snickered into Zach's side. "Shut up, oh my gosh." He pressed a kiss to Zach's hipbone and smiled up at him. Zach pulled him up for another kiss, hands roaming up and down Jon's back before reached down and started rolling the condom down Jon's cock. Jon looked down in confusion again. "What are you-- _oh_!"

Zach floundered, biting his lip and taking his hand off Jon's cock. "Did you not want--"

"No, no, I just thought..." he waved his hands. "You know. _You_ would..."

"Oh! No, I... I don't... wow," he laughed. "We probably should have negotiated or something before we were already naked."

Jon fell back onto the bed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, "What's wrong with us? Are we cursed to have awkward sex forever?"

Zach chewed on his lip for a second before reaching over and sliding his fingers through Jon's hair. "We've gotten this far, though. Like... you know where I stand on where things can go from here."

"And I appreciate it! I'm just surprised."

"I'm surprised you're surprised. There are people who want you to _bottom_?"

"Yeah, like, almost everyone," Jon laughed. "I kind of figured, with your obsession with my ass..."

"I'm not obsessed," Zach said, blushing. "And I've... never topped. Ever."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Andrew didn't like it."

Jon looked thoughtful. "Have you only been with Andrew?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Wow. I didn't realize."

"We were together for... a while," Zach reasoned.

"I know, but-- wow, you really didn't know that you could do better." It hadn't felt weird to be with just Andrew, until now, but Jon just sat up and looked at him, no traces of judgment or pity on his face. Lacing their fingers together he asked softly, "Do you want to try it, or...?"

"Not really," Zach said hesitantly. "Not right now, anyway."

He nodded and said, "Maybe some other time, then," as he pulled the half-unrolled condom off, tossing it into the trash can under the bedside table. All his awkwardness disappeared as he settled himself between Zach's legs again. "Okay, well... how about this: I will suck you off and show you exactly why you should pretend that Vegas didn't happen, and then we can just go from there," he said with a leer, kissing down Zach's chest and palming his cock back to full-hardness.

If last time was enough to turn his body to jelly, then this was nothing short of magical. Jon's movements were sure and focused compared to the other night, no longer slurred and clumsy with alcohol. He pressed breathy kisses up and down Zach's cock, his tongue flicking out in teasing little licks, and his hands kneading at Zach's hipbones. He kept eye contact the entire time, and it felt so intimate. Zach was a mess before Jon even started sucking, and when he did, he went to town, taking him to the root in the first bob of his head.

"Oh, my god," Zach moaned, quivering under Jon's ministrations. "I'm-- Jon, I'm so close," he hissed, stuffing a fist in his mouth to keep from being too loud. Jon just held on to his hips and pushed him harder into the bed, moving his mouth faster and with more pressure than Zach could stand. When he felt the lightest graze of teeth, he lost it, screaming into his fist as an overpowering orgasm ripped through him. His hips spasmed as Jon kept sucking through it, palms running soothingly up and down Zach's thighs.

He gasped for air, and blindly felt for Jon's head, pulling him up by the hair to kiss him. "My hair is not a leash," Jon chuckled as he pulled away and nosed at the bite marks on Zach's hand. He swooped in for another kiss. "Much better than last time, right?"

"I don't know where you get this idea that last time was _bad_ ," Zach gasped into his mouth. Jon's warm body was hot and sticky on top of him, and Zach was incurably addicted to the feeling. Once Jon had let go of his wrist, Zach's hands went everywhere. He couldn't stop touching, couldn't get enough. He had Jon completely wrapped up in his arms and legs, and he still didn't feel like he was touching enough.

Jon's cock was nestled in the sweaty groove of Zach's hip, and he gasped as Zach still trembled beneath him. Pulling away for a second, he asked, "Are you always this feely after sex?"

Zach flushed with embarrassment and tried to stop grabbing so enthusiastically. "I'm... sorry?"

Jon ran a hand through his hair and looked down sweetly. "You got like this last time, I thought it was just... but you're so _handsy_ ," he hummed against Zach's mouth and kissed him again. Zach was still gangly and recovering from his climax that he couldn't do anything more than just mouth at Jon's lips and pull tighter at his body. Leaning back, Jon nudged one of Zach's arms down and whispered huskily, "You don't need to stop. Why don't you put those hands to better use?"

Zach slid one hand around the back of Jon's neck and drifted the other down his stomach to grasp at his erection. Their foreheads were pressed together as he started stroking, and he watched jolts of pleasure flicker in Jon's eyes.

He kneaded into the muscles of Jon's neck, wanting to touch _more_ , everywhere. Zach pushed up with his hips and rolled them over so that he could slide his entire body against Jon's side as he rolled his palm over the tip of his cock.

Jon looked dazed with lust as Zach hovered above his face and meshed their mouths together. His hand sped up, jerking harder at Jon's cock. Jon was mewling softly beneath him, riding closer to his climax as they kissed messily. Zach's free hand kneaded over any patch of skin it could find, pressing into Jon's side, skating up and down his ribs, before finally wrapping around the back of his neck again. He wrenched Jon's hair and _pulled_ , watching his eyebrows knit together and his mouth formed a quiet, "Oh," as he spilled over Zach's fingers, never once breaking eye contact. When Jon sagged back into the pillows, Zach laid on top of him, his hand still curled around his cock and trapped between their bodies.

They laid in bed, catching their breath and leaning into each other with dopey, lovesick grins on their faces.

"You're not going to fall asleep again, are you?"

"No, I think I'm good," Jon was grinning wide and bright.

After a while, they managed to pull on clean clothes -- no thanks to Jon, who nearly tore off Zach's jeans the second he had them on again -- and made their way back down the hall to lounge in the living room for a while, waiting for Jody to come home for dinner.

Jon was standing in the kitchen with the freezer door open, picking through the bags and containers piled haphazardly in between blocks of frosty ice, so Zach sidled up behind him, wrapping around his back and nosing into the juncture of his shoulder and neck.

"Hello, again," Jon chirped, squirming into the touch. One of his hands trailed up Zach's arm and curled around his wrist. "I see your grabbyness hasn't worn off yet."

Zach hummed against his skin. "You're letting all the cold air out."

"I can't decide what to eat."

Zach considered making some joke about eating _him_ but decided it was too easy. He mouthed down Jon's neck and lightly bit into the muscle of his shoulder. Jon gasped and his hand tightened around Zach's wrist as he leaned into the touch. "Oh?" Zach asked, brushing his nose into the skin below his ear and nipping again.

" _Yes_ ," Jon breathed, his body following Zach's mouth.

Zach reached up with his free hand and closed the freezer door as Jon leaned back into Zach's arms and his fingers squeezed harder. "You're _insatiable_ ," he said, smiling against Jon's neck.

"Says the guy who can't keep his hands off me for two minutes while I find us dinner," Jon muttered. He turned in Zach's arms and pulled him in for a kiss. His eyes were bright when he leaned back and ran a hand through Zach's hair, gently pushing his face down. "I talked to Jody earlier."

"Mhmm," Zach mumbled, trailing his mouth down Jon's neck.

"There's a -- _ahh_ \-- a little cup of condoms in the medicine cabinet."

His mouth stopped just above Jon's collarbone. "I can't believe you asked Jody for condoms."

His entire body went slack for a second and he sighed when Zach nipped at his clavicle. "How long does this last, by the way?"

"What?"

"You... feeling me up and smooching me." He arched under Zach's mouth. "You haven't kept your hands to yourself all day, and you're even _snugglier_ now."

"Well since I know you hate it so much," he teased.

Jon gripped his hair and scratched behind his ear after another little bite. "I'm just asking so I know how often I need to sex you up to keep you like this."

Zach laughed. "I... I don't know, I've never been like this before."

"I'll just have to experiment, then," he mused.

They ended up grabbing chopped steak and veggies to put on sticks and throw on the grill, and fruit from the bowl in the center of the dining room table to graze on while they cooked. Zach tinkered with the grill and put things on kebab skewers while Jon stood at a table to the side and cut up fruit to pile into a big bowl, singing along to the radio.

It was familiar and comforting. He was reminded of watching Jon and his mom making breakfast together, and he had a surge of happiness that made him break out into uncontrollable smiling. He wanted to play this day on repeat for the rest of his life.

"Are serenading me with Katy Perry?" Zach asked, wielding a kebab stick and trying to look menacing. The smirk on Jon's face confirmed that he was failing, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.

" _I'mma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight_ ," he sang as he hovered around the table.

Zach rolled his eyes and continued spearing pieces of meat and peppers for the barbecue. Jon came up and placed a piece of pineapple in Zach's mouth before wrapping around his side. "You think you're real cute, don't you?" Zach asked around the fruit.

" _You_ think I'm real cute," Jon teased, edging forward to kiss him.

He could resist Katy Perry songs, but this wasn't something that Zach could say no to. He put down the food and set his hands low on Jon's hips, pressing their bodies together as he melted into the kiss. Jon's lips were coated in pineapple juice, and he could taste even more of it in his mouth. "You are pretty cute," he said when they pulled away.

Jon leaned in again, and they stood in the middle of the deck making out for a few minutes before Jody came up the steps from the side of the house and scoffed at them. "If you guys start fucking in the middle of my backyard, I'm kicking you out, and then you'll have to go back home early."

Smiling against Jon's mouth, Zach made no attempt to move away.

Jody muttered something -- Zach could only hear the grunted "fucking lovebirds" -- before she sashayed back into the house.

Jon snickered and nuzzled into Zach's neck. "See what I mean? So not perky."

Her mood brightened slightly when they offered her a plate of food, and she brought out her secret jar of Nutella to dip the fruit in. Zach and Jon sat together in the swing chair under the porch awning, picking at kebabs and fruit salad while Jody leaned against the wall of the house, telling them about the awful day she'd spent at the gallery.

She went inside once they were done, and left the jar sitting on the table. With a wicked smirk, Jon reached over and swiped a piece of pineapple in the spread before raising it to Zach's lips. Zach nipped at Jon's fingers as he bit into the fruit, and Jon's eyes went wide before he pressed their mouths together, coaxing Zach to share the fruit between them.

His body was relaxing into the familiar feeling of Jon's fingers carding through his hair, but also flaring with desire at the intimacy of their kiss. All he could think about was Jon pressed hot and sweaty against him earlier in the afternoon, and the vision of his face creased in pleasure as he fell apart under Zach's fingers.

When they locked eyes, he barely registered the look on Jon's face before he was pushed up and off the chair with a hand in his shirt, pulling him through the hallway to their room.

They stumbled back into the bedroom, hands and mouths trailing anywhere they could find purchase. When they backed against the bed, Jon planted a palm in the middle of Zach's chest and straddled his thighs. Zach leaned back, arching beneath him as Jon ran his hands up, bunching the fabric of Zach's shirt and grazing the tips of his fingers down Zach's sides. He gripped hard in Jon's hair as his hips bucked, feeling close already.

"Oh, Zach," Jon sighed, rubbing his face all over Zach's chest and breathing in heavily.

" _Please_ ," Zach panted. They'd only just had sex a couple of hours ago, but it felt like he'd been waiting ages.

"I know, sweetie. I know." He crawled back up to slide another eager kiss across Zach's mouth.

Zach ran his hands up Jon's sides, reaching under his t-shirt until Jon pulled back and let Zach fling the shirt over his head and onto the floor. Their fingers twined together and Jon pushed him to lay flat on the bed, climbing atop him so they could grind together as he sank down for another deep, wet kiss. He pulled at the back of Zach's shirt, almost ripping it off him, and giggling as he saw the tangled nest he'd made of Zach's hair. He fisted his hands into the mess and turned Zach's head to mouth down his neck. Zach unraveled beneath him, helpless to do anything but clutch him harder.

Jon's hands made their way down Zach's back and hooked into the waistband of his jeans. He pulled his mouth off Zach's neck with a wet smack and pulled open the button of Zach's before he stood back to try and yank them off his legs.

"These stupid skinny jeans," he laughed. "Did you _paint these on_?"

Zach grinned and helped pull them down. "You weren't complaining earlier."

"I'm complaining now," he smirked and pressed their mouths together again. Jon shoved under Zach's naked body and hauled him back up the bed and crawling back on top of him. For a moment, they were sprawled across the bed grinning at each other, before Zach hooked a leg around Jon's thighs and rolled to sit on his hips, rubbing wantonly against Jon's restrained erection. Jon's hands latched onto his ass, pulling himself down the bed to bury his face into Zach's groin.

Zach gazed down at him in awe as Jon sat up a little higher and swallowed his cock whole. "Fuck," he moaned, his head rolling back and his hands instinctively burying into Jon's hair. He would never get used to the sudden wet heat of Jon's mouth on him, even if they did this every day. His knees felt weak and he wasn't sure he could sit upright much longer if Jon kept up the steady slurping of his cock. He pushed at Jon's shoulders and they both fell back onto the bed, Jon clamoring on top of him to cradle his face and look down at him with a sweet smile.

Zach reached down and palmed the outline of Jon's erection through his jeans. Jon whimpered and pulled back just a fraction, and Zach followed his mouth, nipping sharp at his bottom lip as he started unbuttoning his pants. Their foreheads rested together as he groaned. Zach reached inside to feel his cock and gave him a wicked grin. Jon scrambled off, standing at the foot of the bed to frantically shove his jeans down before sliding back up Zach's body.

His hands framed Zach's face as he leaned in to brush their lips together again, soft and tender compared to their hasty groping. He nudged Zach's knees apart, and Zach stretched to enfold Jon's hips with his legs, hooking his ankles together and trapping Jon between them.

Jon sighed against his mouth and did something with his hips that pressed his cock right under Zach's balls. Zach keened at the sudden pressure against his taint, throwing his head back so Jon could groan into his shoulder as he pushed forward. His cock slid around to glide along Zach's and he nearly screamed at the contact. They stayed entwined for a few minutes, just frotting hard and desperate against each other, and pressing hot, toothy kisses wherever their mouths could find skin.

Jon pulled back with a sharp, sucking kiss under Zach's bottom lip and they took a minute to calm their breaths. Zach reached up to brush a few sweaty curls from Jon's face and smiled. Jon's eyes were lit up with adoration as he brushed their noses together and stole a quick kiss. "You ready?"

Zach nodded. He was beyond ready. He couldn't recall ever feeling so horny before. It was like his body was on fire, he was so desperate for every touch of Jon's skin against his own.

Jon reached over to pick up a condom from the bedside table and roll it down his cock. He unscrewed the cap of the massage oil, generously coating one of his hands, and pressed two fingers against Zach's ass. Zach was writhing on his fingers instantly, whining for more even as Jon worked another one in.

He rubbed his erection up the crease of Zach's ass, teasing for a few seconds before Zach grabbed at his hips and tried to pull him in. Jon smiled as he lined up against his entrance and pushed.

"Oh, my god," Zach groaned, bearing down as Jon pressed his slick hardness inside.

"Breathe, sweetie." Jon bent over and smoothed down Zach's hair. "Okay?"

Zach took a few huge gulps of air, trying to get used to feeling so stretched and _full_ \-- he'd never felt so full before. Jon's cock felt enormous inside him, big and perfect and reaching inside to caress him everywhere. He opened his eyes to see Jon smiling tightly and gazing down at him. They breathed against each other before Zach hiked up his knees and pulled at Jon's back, ushering him to move again. He slid slowly in and out of Zach's body, helping him acclimate to the feeling. He smoothed a hand down Zach's hip, rubbing soothing little circles before reaching up and cradling his shoulders. Gasping, Zach pulled him closer, wrapping his arms tightly around Jon's neck.

It was overwhelming, being completely surrounded and filled with Jon. He was taking over all of Zach's senses; his hot breath gasping against Zach's ear, the lingering taste of their kisses in his mouth, the hot musk of their arousal swarming them. All he could see and feel was Jon, looming above him and buried so deep within him.

Jon thrust carefully. His face was tense, like it was taking all his control to keep a steady rhythm. Zach knew he was trying to go slowly, to ease the initial burn and make things go smoother, but he was past the point of caring whether it hurt later.

When Jon reached between them and started jerking at Zach's cock, the sharp spike of pleasure was surprising. Zach tossed his head back and cried out. He clenched at Jon's back, begging shamelessly for more, and Jon fell into a frantic rhythm, pumping harder and faster. Zach moaned, undulating beneath him with abandon. His nerve endings were singing, sensitive to every touch so that his entire body was in ecstasy.

"I can't--" Jon let go and braced himself on both hands, thrusting erratically. Their noses bumped together as he hovered above Zach's face and whispered, "Touch yourself," against Zach's lips.

Zach wormed a hand down his stomach and started stroking his cock in time with the rhythm of Jon's thrusts. His other hand was pressed hard in the skin of Jon's back, his legs reflexively holding Jon's hips tight. He screamed as his body coiled up and exploded into a hard climax.

Jon let out a yelp at the clenching around his throbbing cock, and he stopped his movements for a moment while Zach sobbed against his neck. His body shuddered for a few long moments as he came down, and Jon stayed mostly still above him, occasionally brushing their mouths together. Zach was so out of his mind with pleasure that he just gasped at the contact.

When he started to regain control of his shaky limbs, Zach reached up and pulled Jon back down to lick his mouth open until they were sliding their lips distractedly against each other. Jon started pistoning inside him again, pushing up away from Zach's greedy mouth. Zach kept his arms tight around Jon's shoulders and leaned forward to bite along his jaw. Jon's eyes fluttered closed and he sighed, tilting his head back. Zach kissed down his throat and bit hard into his neck, and Jon let out a soft cry and froze, his arms dropping so that he was lying against Zach, pressing them both flat into the mattress. His hips stuttered for a moment before he slammed once more, sighing in release.

They stayed wrapped around each other, panting and touching softly as they tried to catch their breath.

"Ohhh, _fuck_ ," Jon moaned, falling back onto the bed. He felt around his thighs and pulled the condom off, tossing it onto the floor carelessly.

Zach crawled over, desperate to touch him all over again. "Fuck? Really?"

"I only save it for special occasions," he laughed into Zach's hand trailing over his mouth. He brushed away Zach's wrist and pulled his face in for a sloppy, lazy kiss.

Zach couldn't stop shivering, his body still quaking in aftershocks, like his body needed to remind him just how good he felt. How good Jon had felt. He buried himself further in Jon's arms, trying to keep himself from floating away. Jon just rolled into him and smoothed hot, sweaty hands up his back. Their sticky bodies were completely tangled together, and he couldn't get enough of it.

"That was incredible," Jon sighed against his head.

" _You_ are incredible," he mouthed into the juncture of Jon's arm and shoulder, clutching even harder at Jon's arms as his heart finally started to slow down. "Is it always like that with you?"

"It's _never_ been like that. Ever."

Zach's heart thundered a few beats in his chest again. He grinned into Jon's neck.

"But I'm willing to try again," Jon laughed. "Just in case."

"Later," Zach sighed.

"Yeah, I don't think I can move."

"You have definitely ruined me for sex with anyone else. Ever."

"Good. I've... waited an embarrassingly long time for this."

"Was it worth the wait?"

" _God, yes_."

"My hair smells like that stupid massage oil," he smiled and tilted his head up to kiss under Jon's ear. "Actually, I think all of me does."

"Aww," Jon cooed. "You'll have to withstand _shower sex_ , how awful."

Zach pulled back to look at him. "God forbid we have sex in the morning, like normal people, but round three in the shower is totally fine."

"Mm," Jon grinned and pulled in for more snuggles. "Just you wait. We are going to have so much fun sex. I'm going to have up up against the door of a rest stop bathroom in _every_ rest stop we hit on the way home."

"I don't think my body can handle that." Even as he spoke, Zach's cock betrayed his words by twitching with interest. "I mean, twice this afternoon was taxing enough. I think you wore me out for the next week."

"You'll adapt," he murmured against Zach's jaw before his hand curled around the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss.


End file.
